


Tunnel to the Sky

by ImpendingExodus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (except shiro never disappeared), Galra!Keith, Gen, Happy Ending, Matt Holt - Freeform, Princess Bride References, Solitary Confinement, Team Dynamics, allura is kind of a background character, fun start turns dark, galra rebels, lots of galra, mild PTSD, mostly end of s2 compliant, space malls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 22:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11746473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpendingExodus/pseuds/ImpendingExodus
Summary: The Castle is in disrepair, the Galra are invading, and the Paladins only wanted to go on a day trip to the space mall.  Oh well, not everyone gets what they want.  Time to turn space pirate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the gen Voltron Big Bang over on tumblr. My awesome artist is [hijackedbylou](http://www.hijackedbylou.tumblr.com) \-- go check out their art!! (Links to art are in the related chapters.)

Hunk stayed frozen where he was, sitting crosslegged next to one of the castle’s control panels in a long-unused hallway. There were wires and small crystal bits looping out and around his lap, spilling from the innards of the console like the stuffing from a child’s toy. Hunk looked rather like a child who had just lost their favorite toy; he was holding a wire in either hand, small sparks of electricity still snapping from each one, with a stricken look on his face.

Beside him, Pidge looked shocked as well, though considerably less guilty. “Huh. Was that us?”

Hunk looked back at the wires in his hands and carefully moved them farther apart. “I’m gonna say yes. Or that was the biggest coincidence since us finding Blue.” A pause. “I guess we should go see --?”

“Ughhh. Yeah, we should. But... until it’s proven you caused it, let’s keep quiet.”

Hunk glared at her, still petulant. “I didn’t cause anything!”

“Yeah, you did.” Pidge stood up and gestured at the walls. “The ginormous explosion downstairs happened the exact moment you touched the wires together. I’m ninety-five percent sure that’s your fault.”

“You told me you could read Altean! You said these wires were for the tertiary exterior lighting system. I was just following along!”

“I said I could _sort of_ read Altean. Like, animal names and stuff. I’m only on the third stage of the learning program; don’t go blaming me.”

Hunk dropped his hands limply to his sides. “Allura’s gonna kill us.”

“Not if we can fix it fast enough. C’mon, let’s at least go see what blew up.”

“Why are you -- I mean, how --” Hunk trailed off as Pidge scooped up her laptop and raced from the room. He took a moment to slump down and his stomach growled forlornly. “Why are you excited by an explosion. It just means more work.”

But sitting around was going to accomplish nothing, so he pulled himself to his feet. Carefully laying out the wires in a way so that there would be no accidental connection, he left the scene of the crime and trailed after Pidge on the way to the scene of the bigger crime.

It took him a while to find on which deck the explosion had occurred, mainly because the lights kept flickering on and off and gave the hallways a distinctly haunted-house vibe.

“Pidge? Hey, Pidge?” He shuffled forward in the intervals of light. If he thought of it as a rave, it wasn’t so bad at all. Turning yet another corner, he finally caught sight of Pidge at the end of the hallway, standing next to a closed door and looking concerned, even from this distance. He waved to her. “Everything okay?”

The lights shorted out again and stayed out.

“Why would everything not be okay?” said a voice right behind him.

Hunk lunged forward with a shout. Wait, he knew that accent. “Coran?”

“Who else would be down here checking on you two? Just making sure you didn’t blow yourselves up or anything.” Coran clicked on a flashlight and pointed it up at his chin. “Did I scare you?”

Instead of answering, Hunk glanced back down the hall. Pidge was still there, dimly silhouetted by a dusky orange glow.

“Hey, guys?” Her voice echoed and Coran shone the light her way. “I think the maintenance room is on fire.”

The calm tone in which she delivered the news made both Hunk and Coran stall for a full five ticks before it fully registered.

“Fire?” Hunk repeated in a much more panicked voice. “Coran, where’s the extinguisher? Where’s the water? Don’t tell me the sprinkler system isn’t working. Is the fire gonna take up all the oxygen? How long until we can’t breathe?”

“It’s no big deal, not at all.” Coran thumped him on the back. “Just wait for the automatic systems to cut on and -- Well. No power. Hm.”

Down the hall, Pidge opened the door a crack, letting black plumes of smoke billow into the hallway before she slammed it shut again. “Guys? Any ideas?”

Coran shone the flashlight along the walls until the beam rested on a small canister hanging from a hook. “You could always do it the old-fashioned way. Just be careful not to get burned or spray each other with the stuff.”

Picking up the aerosol, Hunk squinted at the label in the darkness. “Are you sure this isn’t hairspray? Because Lance did a trick with hairspray and a lighter once, and it was more like fireworks than a fire extinguisher.”

“Of course it’ll work. Unless it’s gone bad. Hard to know until you try.”

“Great.” With the solemnity of a funeral, Hunk headed down the hallway toward where Pidge was tying a bandanna around the lower part of her face. He zipped his own vest up as far as it would go, more for the feeling of security than the hope it would actually block the smoke.

Now that he was closer to the door, he could see some small flames inside the room, glowing cheerfully through the window. But mostly the room was just full of smoke.

“You ready for this?” Hunk asked.

“I don’t see why I’m involved at all, really. My only crime was illiteracy. I’m too young to die.”

“You know, I might actually have mercy on you if you spoke in something other than a dead monotone all the time.”

“Whatever.” She tightened the knot of her bandanna. “Here goes.”

With the push of a button, the door slid all the way open and both paladins disappeared from sight, swathed in roiling black clouds as they plunged through the doorway.

 

* * *

 

The aftermath of the fire was a lot less spectacular than they’d anticipated. Actually, the fire itself was something of a disappointment, more the equivalent of a couple of candles than a real threat. The canister had worked to put out the few flames but the smoke was taking much longer to clear.

“I’m never gonna get this smell out of my clothes,” Pidge groaned. She was sitting in the hallway across from Hunk as they waited for the maintenance room to “air out” so they could assess the damage.

“Well I’m pretty sure no one will notice, since the whole castle is gonna smell like smoke now,” Hunk replied. “This is all filtering directly into the air system.”

Coran was even further down the hall, crouched low to the floor as he tried to stay under the smoke layer. “Don’t worry, the life support system should take care of this in no time. Unless it’s down too, of course, in which case we’ve got bigger things to worry about.” The other two glared at him. “But of course that’s highly unlikely!”

Standing up and cracking her back, Pidge headed toward the room. Wisps of smoke still drifted out, but there was significantly less than before. “I’m going to see what was on fire. I’m guessing it’ll at least give us something to do for the next several vargas until dinner time.”

Hunk pulled himself to his feet behind her. “But there won’t _be_ dinner until we get this fixed.”

“Then it’s time to get working,” Pidge commented.

Once they were in the room and looking around, it wasn’t all that bad. Several consoles were scorched black, there were a few loose wires that had blown out under the power overload, and... There was a delicate crunch under Hunk’s foot. He froze, looking guilty, and backed up. On the ground was a tiny pale pink crystal, a miniature version of the main crystal that ran the castle, only it was in pieces.

Pidge stared at it for a minute. “To be fair, you weren’t the one to break it. There are crystal bits all over the top of this console here; I think it shattered itself out of the socket and was already cracked when it hit the floor.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“You’re acting like you just stepped on a puppy!”

“It’s technology! It’s important, fragile stuff!” Hunk huffed. “And now it’s just one more thing we have to figure out how to fix.”

Pidge knelt and swept all the pieces into a pile, which she scooped up in one hand. “I’ll go ask Coran if we have a spare.”

That left Hunk to survey the damage and make aborted attempts to clean the char marks off the equipment. It was slow going, and every time he thought he was making progress, he only uncovered more frayed wires and melted electronics. Maybe this fire had been a good thing, coming at a time when they weren’t actively under attack, since clearly so many of these systems were due for major overhauls.

“Whatcha doing?”

Hunk crawled out from where he’d wedged himself under one of the less ruined consoles. “Hey, Lance. Here to help?”

“Actually I came to see when lunch was but now I’m really happy that the smoke wasn’t from the kitchen after all. Need a hand?”

“Yes and no. Mainly I need spare parts.”

Lance picked up a shard of pink crystal from the floor, turning it over in his fingers. “I’m guessing this isn’t someone’s jewelry, is it?”

“As far as I can tell, it’s some sort of surge protector. Which Pidge and I managed to blow out by accident.”

“So that’s why the lights are out, huh.”

Hunk looked up from splicing two wires back together. “How many lights?”

“Like, all of them?” Noticing Hunk’s guilty look, Lance shrugged. “Okay, it’s not all that bad; the emergency lights are working for the most part. It’s just enough to make the castle a bit creepy, is all.”

“But it wasn’t _supposed_ to do that,” Hunk whined more to himself than anyone else. He glared at the crystal bit in Lance’s hand. “I’m afraid to find out... just how much of the castle did that thing take down with it?”

The answer to that question was a lot farther-reaching than anyone would have thought. Hunk cried when after hours of piecing the maintenance room back together, he went to make lunch only to find that the kitchen was cold and dark. Random lights throughout the whole castle were down -- and not in any real order, either. Coran had given up on looking for spares in all the storage rooms and was off with Pidge, cataloging which circuits had been blown and trying to find a pattern.

Meanwhile Hunk returned to the maintenance room with a bowl of cold food goo (the stuff was nearly toxic when it was coagulated, but he needed to eat) and the attitude of a veteran going into battle. Lance trailed after him for lack of anything better to do, since his room was one of the ones affected by the power outage.

“Have you heard from Shiro or Keith yet?” the Blue Paladin asked, eyeing the sparkling pile of broken crystals and stripped wires that was accumulating in Hunk’s lap.

“No, and I’m not looking forward to it.” Hunk frowned. “I hope they didn’t get stuck somewhere...”

Lance nodded sagely, remembering his time trapped in the elevator. “I don’t envy them if that’s the case.”

A knock sounded on the doorframe and they looked up to see none other than Shiro himself standing there. He was wearing his armor, probably from practicing up on the training deck. “I’m going to assume you’re already aware of what’s going on?”

Cringing inwardly, Hunk nodded. “I’m really sorry. I had no idea it would be this big a problem. But if Coran can find the parts, I’m sure I can have this all fixed up by dinner.” Because there wouldn’t _be_ dinner until this place was fixed or Hunk died trying.

“Good, good.” Shiro seemed distracted. “I’ve got Keith on standby in Red; I don’t like sitting here defenseless.” He turned to leave but stopped at the pair’s exclamations of confusion. “You mean you didn’t know the particle barrier is completely shot right now?”

Whereas before the problem had been a minor, routine annoyance, now it became something that settled in Hunk’s stomach like a rock. “Can you... repeat that?”

Shiro noticed his stricken look and tried to make his own expression less stern. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose. Let’s just move on and get everything back up and running as soon as possible.”

Nodding, Hunk bent back to the task of clearing out the ruined bits of technology from the inside of the console. There was a very real chance, a very real fear gnawing at his mind, that this one wouldn’t be an easy fix, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Lance, hand me the flashlight?”

The inside of the control panel glittered like a jewelry box in the light. Hunk removed a dim blue crystal, careful not to disturb the wires welded into it.

“Is that a Balmeran crystal?” Lance asked, leaning forward.

“Could be. Who knows where any of this stuff comes from. But if it is -- Well, there aren’t any Balmeras around here at the moment.”

Shiro leaned forward from where he was lingering in the doorway. “Any chance of rigging up something else, like just using a bit of conductive metal instead?”

Hunk shook his head. “The castle’s kinda held together with duct tape and string already. I don’t want to jury-rig any more than I have to; it may not hold up to the strain we regularly put this place through.”

“We should go find Coran. If there aren’t any spares, maybe he can suggest a way to rewire and bypass this console.”

They both turned and looked at Lance, who smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say, maybe the Garrison taught me something after all.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t build a competent bottle rocket in high school,” Hunk muttered and ignored the resulting pout.

“Worth a shot, anyway. At the moment it’s either that, or start raiding Allura’s earring collection.”

 

* * *

 

After an unsatisfying dinner of whatever random foods didn’t need to be cooked to be edible, all five paladins were assembled by Coran on the bridge. Allura was still running diagnostics on the main console, but the program kept shorting out and resetting until she finally turned it off in frustration.

“We’re going to need some means of defense in place of the particle barrier,” she said, coming over to where the humans were assembled in varying states of dejection. “It would also be easier to land somewhere while we work on repairs, so there’s not the fear of the engines going out.”

“You say ‘work on repairs’ like there’s any hope of fixing this mess,” Pidge said. It was hard to tell if the dark circles under her eyes were from exhaustion or just the shadow of her glasses frame.

Coran stepped up. “If we could get our hands on replacement parts, then yes. Repairing this Castle shouldn’t take too much work at all!”

“Lemme guess,” Hunk cut in. “It’s like with the teleduv stuff. There just aren’t parts lying around anywhere to equip a ten-thousand-year-old flying castle.”

Coran twirled his mustache at him. “Exactly right, except that there _is_ a place I know of to get more crystals. Lots more!” He paused and let everyone look at him expectantly before continuing, “Any second-hand store worth its name should have buckets of these lying around! They were the most common hardware fitting in several galaxies back in the day. Common as lemrans! And cheap, too.”

“Yes, they were quite the fashion accessory, weren’t they?” Allura added. “When they burned out, they still kept their shine and people made jewelry out of them. I probably have some myself.”

“Any chance we could borrow a necklace or two?” Hunk asked hopefully.

She shook her head. “They wouldn’t be able to hold a charge any more; that’s why they were discarded.”

“So...” Lance spoke up from the back of the group. “Does this mean another trip to a space mall?”

Pidge’s eyes lit up, as did Coran’s. Hunk got a wistful smile. Keith grumbled something to himself and crossed his arms tighter over his chest. Shiro looked around at all their reactions with puzzlement.

“What exactly _is_ a space mall? I’m really lost here, guys.”

“Oh, believe me,” Keith’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, “it’s an experience you won’t forget.”

“Hey! You’re just mad that you didn’t find anything cool to buy.”

“Says the guy who bought a _cow_.”

“It was a freebie!”

“All right, settle down!” Shiro called out. “So we’re going to a mall. Princess, where’s the nearest one?”

“I can plot a course and get us there in several vargas,” Allura answered, glancing at the holographic monitors. “But it’s in a sector controlled by the Galra. I’ll have to land the Castle somewhere unnoticed, then you’ll go in by shuttle.”

“We can’t leave the Castle defenseless while we’re gone,” Pidge said. “Unless -- I assume some of us will have to stay behind?” She didn’t sound happy at the prospect.

“I’ll stay,” Hunk volunteered, stepping up and resting a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t want you to miss out on all the fun!”

Then it was Lance’s turn to look unhappy. “C’mon man, you can’t leave me alone with Keith!”

“ _Guys_ ,” Shiro cut in before they could get started again. “We’ll all go. It’s safer in numbers and that way you won’t have anything to argue about. Princess, I assume you and Coran can handle the Castle while we’re gone?”

Allura nodded. “There’s not much I can do at the moment anyway. And I’m somewhat familiar with Altean technology, so I’ll be able to help Coran repair some of the systems.”

“Well, now that that’s settled, I’m going to get our shopping list together.” Coran looked around the group, visually sizing them all up. “And we’ll be needing a few extra disguises this time around!”

“Disguises?” Everyone ignored Shiro’s bewilderment.

“We’ll be getting there early in the morning. I suggest you all take the opportunity to rest up for the trip.” Allura turned away toward the steering console.

“Oh yeah,” Keith muttered. “Gonna be a _blast_.”

Shiro was just left wondering what in the world he had missed the first time around.

 

* * *

 

By the time morning rolled around, the Castle’s systems were somewhat stabilized to allow for everyday function. Worryingly, the particle barrier was still down, but as long as they managed to avoid combat there was hope. In the meantime, Pidge had completed a program she’d been working on, which would change the Castle’s outer appearance to match its surroundings. At the moment it was a deep black sprinkled with stars, rendering it invisible to the naked eye; scanners would be harder to fool, but if they could find a place to land, Allura thought they could set up a jammer field as an extra layer of protection.

The mall planet loomed into view as they were all assembled on the bridge. It was a small dusty brown rock; its only draw was the trading post and its network of docks, parking lots, and roads leading into the huge complex. A tiny airless moon swung around in orbit.

“Where are you thinking of landing the Castle?” Shiro asked. “That moon looks too bare to hide a ship this size.”

“If Pidge’s chameleon program can handle it, I’d like to land in the desert and disguise the Castle as rocky spires. That way you won’t have to travel so far to get to the mall, and I can be close by in case of an emergency.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Pidge said, already dropping down to sit crosslegged as she pulled out her laptop. “I’ll start setting up the parameters now.”

“In the meanwhile --” Coran said, grunting and huffing as he entered the bridge, hauling a giant wooden chest behind him. The thing was half as tall as he was and looked like it hadn’t been out of storage since before the war. Which, considering, it probably hadn’t. “Disguises!”

Shiro blinked at him. “Why?”

“It’s part of The Experience,” Lance said, pushing his way to the front of the group. If they were going to have to wear these ridiculously conspicuous costumes, he might as well get first pick. It wasn’t that he disliked playing dress-up on occasion, and he had to admit that the trenchcoat and bandolier belt had been pretty cool, but it was still embarrassing to be seen in some of those clothes. Especially since the coat and accessories from last time were in a trash bin many lightyears away; who knew what awful stuff was left in the trunk now.

The other paladins eyed the chest with distaste.

“Fine.” Pidge set aside her technology and came over to help Lance fish through the assortment of oversized armor, mismatched boots, and enough brightly-colored silk scarves to put a magician to shame.

Hunk rolled his eyes but joined in anyway, muttering that he refused to be left with the dregs like last time. After another moment of hesitation, Keith joined in as well, and Shiro saw no option but to follow suit.

Coran was beaming, off to the side, ecstatic that his contribution to the mission was being appreciated. It took a bit of squabbling and swapping accessories, but at last the five paladins stood before him, mostly unrecognizable. Shiro had claimed a long red overcoat and a colombina mask, just enough to cover his distinctive scar without obscuring his vision. Keith was wearing his red bandanna over the lower part of his face, and had gone a subtler route with lots of extra belt pouches and a lopsided bit of shoulder armor. Next to him, Hunk was grumbling that he had sworn he’d never wear a mask again after the last uncomfortably hot mall trip, yet there he was with a full-face piece painted with a gaudy yellow sunburst. He’d also picked out some bracers and a chest plate, but only because -- as he muttered to Pidge -- he was going to ditch the mask at the first opportunity.

“No, you won’t.” Coran glared at him. “It’s a necessary part of going to any space mall!”

“You still think that after seeing what malls have become in this century?” Lance asked. He’d draped a blue-gray cloak over his shoulders and was currently attempting to hold it in place with numerous belts looped around his arms and over his shoulders. Finally he pulled the hood up and let it hang all the way down to his nose. “Am I anonymous enough yet?”

“You still sound like Lance to me,” Pidge said, holding up a pair of reflective glasses. A green scarf, one of the first things she’d pulled from the trunk, was still draped around her neck and trailing down her back in an iridescent stream. “Coran, do these glasses adjust to the wearer? Because they look prescription to me.”

“Of course they adjust! What’s the point of having glasses that don’t fit everyone?”

“Nice.” She whipped off her own pair and slid the new ones into place. “Every good hacker needs a pair of sci-fi glasses.”

Hunk pushed his mask up to the top of his head and mopped at his face. “So are we ready to go?”

“We will be in just a few dobashes,” Allura answered. She was leaning against the main console and watching the paladins with faint amusement. “Once I land the Castle, I’ll activate the camouflage and you can take a shuttle to the mall. If you can make it quick and the Castle is repaired, then maybe we all can go back just for fun!”

“Sounds good. Head to the bay, everyone.” Shiro turned toward the door.

“Hold on a tick!” Coran beckoned Hunk and Pidge closer. “Do you know _exactly_ what it is you’re looking for?”

Fair point. Hunk frowned. “I know what it looks like when it’s in pieces...”

Pidge tugged at his arm. “I’ve got a handheld scanner with me; I can see if there’s any sort of residual energy output. Assuming we find any crystals at all, that is.”

“You will. My memory is never wrong!”

“A lot has changed in ten thousand years,” Hunk pointed out, but there was no sense killing hope before they’d even started. With any luck they’d find an antique shop and all their problems would be solved easily.

“Good luck, paladins,” Allura called as they filed out. “If you do find the crystals, maybe bring back some spares, too.”

“For future repairs?” Coran asked.

“For _me_ ,” she said quietly, as the doors slid shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Since they joined a main road after leaving the desert, it wasn’t too hard for the shuttlecraft to blend in with the steady stream of vehicles headed toward the mall. Whatever day of the week this was, it was apparently the prime time for shopping -- traffic slowed to nearly a crawl as they approached the main entrance, and Shiro had to activate the shields more than once to avoid being rear-ended.

Muffled thumps sounded from the wall separating the cockpit from the cargo hold. “Are we there yet?” came a voice, most likely Lance.

“Almost,” Shiro answered quietly to himself, leaning forward to see farther out of the windshield. “Hey Keith, got some binoculars? It looks like there’s some sort of checkpoint...”

Great. Just what they didn’t need. Coran hadn’t mentioned that security was apparently a thing at these malls.

Keith pulled a binocular-like device from a side compartment and raised it to his eyes. “Yes, definitely a checkpoint. And it’s being manned by a Galra soldier.”

Shiro flinched slightly inside his overcoat. Neither he nor Keith had their bayards, and with the other three practically locked in the cargo hold, it would be all too easy to take them captive. Glancing around revealed nowhere for him to pull off; to the left was traffic coming the other way, and to the right was a heavy guard rail that separated the road from the desert.

Keith lowered the binoculars and leaned toward Shiro. “I don’t think anyone will be able to see through our disguises. Just play it cool and we’ll be fine. He probably lets in hundreds of people a day; we’re nothing special.”

“I know,” Shiro answered, harsher than he’d intended. He knew, he _knew_ , and yet just the sight of a Galra was enough to set his teeth on edge. But this one wasn’t an enemy, wasn’t here to hurt him, was just going to let the shuttle through the gate and that would be that.

Except that when it came their turn, the gate stayed shut and the guard -- a short, furry Galra carrying a taser -- came out of his booth and up to the shuttle.

The two in the cockpit shared a wild glance.

“Were we supposed to have a license of sorts?” Keith asked, scrambling through the array of pouches on his belt. “Coran didn’t mention what to do now!”

But when he looked back over at Shiro for help, the other man had schooled his face into an expression of bland politeness as he opened the side window. His right hand was gripping the steering control too tightly, but it was the only part that betrayed his tension.

The Galra came all the way up to the craft and rested his elbows on the edge of the window, right in Shiro’s personal space. “Nice ship you got here,” he commented, running his tongue over sharp teeth.

Shiro grunted agreement, not trusting himself to speak.

The guard leaned back, raking his eyes over the outside of the ship and then the interior again. Keith was unconsciously reaching back for his knife when he made eye contact and the Galra smirked.

“Must have taken you ages to restore ‘er. Haven’t seen a model this antique in... ever. Didn’t this style go out, like, ten thousand years ago?”

Both humans were lost for words as they breathed sighs of relief.

“You’ve seriously got a piece of art on your hands here,” the Galra continued, unperturbed by the honking and angry shouts building up behind the shuttle. “I don’t suppose you would ever think of selling?”

“No, sorry,” Shiro managed to say, somehow keeping a calm expression. “In fact, we were just here to look for some more parts for it. You wouldn’t happen to know a place that sells antiques from this era, would you?”

The guard shook his head, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sure there are some junk shops in there, maybe you’ll get lucky. Their stock changes every few days so if you don’t find what you’re looking for now, you can always come back and try again.”

“Prefer not to do that,” Keith muttered. He finally relaxed back into his seat. At least the noise level of the traffic behind them would cover up if any of the other three paladins took the opportunity to start hammering on the door again, and the guard didn’t appear to be an immediate threat.

Shiro was trying to politely edge away from the guard, one foot on the accelerator, and at last the Galra seemed to get the message.

“Well, good luck in there,” he called. With one final glance at the shuttle, he retreated back to his station and flipped a lever, triggering the gate to open.

Shiro raised one arm in a halfhearted wave as he cruised into the mall’s docking area. Keith glanced over at him to find that he was equally tense, sitting ramrod straight in his seat.

The Red Paladin was the first to let himself slump back, chest relaxing and forcing out a loud sigh. “Glad that’s over.”

Shiro snorted. “Somehow I have a feeling that was only the beginning.”

“Do you ever get annoyed at being right all the time?”

Finally Shiro smiled, even if it was brief. “What are you talking about; I love being right.”

The banging renewed from the back compartment, cutting off further conversation.

Keith stood up as the windshield rolled back, and stretched his arms above his head. “Sounds like someone better go take care of the kids.”

“Don’t forget you were one short straw away from being back there yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, you like me too much to do that.”

Shiro stepped out of the cockpit and headed around to the side door. “Don’t count on it,” he called back. “I’m not allowed to pick favorites, remember?”

The cargo door opened abruptly from the inside as he reached for it, and the three other paladins leapt down to the ground in quick succession.

“What took you so long?” Lance asked. His cloak was askew and he looked to be already regretting all the extra belts, as they sagged off his shoulders and hips.

“Got stopped by security. Luckily you all stayed _quiet_ throughout,” Keith said, coming around behind the shuttle. “She’s all locked up, Shiro. Just need to remember where we’ve parked.”

“All right then, team. Here’s the deal.” Shiro waited until he had everyone’s full attention before continuing. “We’re going to stick together. We really can’t afford to be noticed, so I’m hoping you won’t do anything to attract attention to us.” The word _cows_ was forefront in everyone’s mind, but no one said anything. For now, the gravity of the situation was still painfully obvious. “I know we’re all looking for a good time here, but let’s try to find the castle parts first. Then we can relax easier. Okay?”

The four nodded, faces serious.

“I’ll be on my best behavior. Can’t speak for anyone else though --”

Hunk laid a heavy hand on Lance’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go. We can’t start arguing before we’re even out of the hangar yet!”

They filed away from the shuttle, all of them trying to straighten their disguises and groaning at different levels of despair at how they were supposed to survive a whole day dressed like that. It took a moment to find the exit to the large underground area, but off to one side they finally spotted an open-air elevator that was just dropping off a group of vaguely humanoid aliens. There were ships of different sizes and styles lined up along the walls. Most of them were well-worn cargo shuttles, but there were a few that had prominent weapons mounted on them. At least they weren’t Galra in design, but the presence of warships in a civilian area was a bit concerning.

As they walked along the wall approaching the elevator, Pidge suddenly stopped and adjusted her glasses. “Um?” she said eloquently, pointing to the wall next to them. “This isn’t good.”

There plastered to the metal was a set of posters featuring full-color photographs of the four younger paladins. The pictures had clearly been taken during their trip to the last space mall, since Pidge was clutching the game console and Hunk was still wearing his apron. Surrounding the pictures were rows of alien script, mostly indecipherable. Still, they didn’t need to read the text to know what these were.

“Well that’s kind of cool,” Lance commented. “We got to be famous pretty quickly, huh?”

Pidge squinted at the writing. “I’m not sure, but some of these symbols look like Altean writing. Kind of a lingua galaxia or something, I guess. Pretty sure this says there’s a big reward for capturing us.”

“Does it mention Voltron at all?” Keith asked in a low voice. The aliens near the elevator had left, heading across the bay to their ship, but nevertheless he glanced around before talking. “Can they connect our faces with who we are?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe? But these posters just look like general wanted ads, like we’re petty crooks or something.”

Hunk raised a hand. “Well since Pidge’s reading skills kinda got the castle blown up, maybe let’s take it with a grain of salt this time.”

She stepped on his foot and he yelped.

“Guys.” Shiro stepped forward and they separated. “I think the real question now is whether our disguises are good enough to fool people.” He glanced around the group, at the assortment of masks and tinted glasses staring back at him.

“Maybe we do owe Coran a thank you after all,” Lance muttered, flipping his hood up so it shadowed his face. “Think anyone’ll know it’s me?”

“Just... keep a low profile. Now let’s get going before security comes after us for loitering.”

Luckily the lift was empty by the time they got on it. Pidge immediately headed over to the control panel and sagged in disappointment when there were only two buttons, both marked with directional arrows. “I was hoping for something more interesting,” she muttered, slapping the up arrow.

“I don’t know, I can live with short and simple right now,” Keith commented. He was standing with his arms crossed in the corner opposite from where Lance was making final touchups to his costume.

“Hey, Shiro?” Hunk turned to the Black Paladin. “Do we need secret identities or something? To protect our real names?”

“We could just use our lions’ colors,” Keith suggested.

“Too risky,” Pidge chimed in from where she was leaning over the railing and watching the landing bay drop away below them. “Someone might notice a pattern in the colors and figure out who we are.”

Finally done with his belts and straps, Lance joined Pidge at the front railing. “We could just say something cool, like ‘if I told you my real name I’d have to kill you’. Like a super-secret identity that no one else can know. Give us a real aura of mystery, y’know?” He grinned from inside his hood and only his teeth were visible.

Shiro looked up from where he was reading over the shopping list one more time. “Just use your real names. It’s not like anyone knows you anyway.”

Even Keith frowned at that. “Killjoy.”

“Well.” Lance flipped his cloak dramatically just in time as the elevator came to a stop. “My name is the Sharpshooter. I have a tragic past and a charming personality --”

Shiro, Keith, and Pidge stepped off the lift. Once again, Hunk’s hand found its way to Lance’s shoulder. “C’mon, time to go. Besides, I thought you were the Tailor?”

“Times change, buddy. I’ve got a new skillset now!” Lance gave him a shortlived smile and followed the rest of the group off of the elevator and into the mall proper.

 

* * *

 

At first glance, the mall was very similar to the one they had visited previously: high glass ceiling showing the stars, multiple tiers and balconies full of shops, and a central fountain and food court area where a fair number of customers were gathered. The aliens around them seemed to be less civilian-y than at the last mall, though -- most were wearing durable clothes of thick cloth or leather; a few were even wearing bits of armor. No weapons were evident, but it was probably a safe guess that concealed arms were the norm around here.

“I’m really thinking we should have brought our bayards,” Keith muttered.

“Those would have given us away quicker than anything,” Pidge reminded him. “Besides, we’re supposed to stay inconspicuous. Can’t do that while waving weapons around.”

“At least we’ve got Shiro,” Lance chimed in, causing the paladin in question to look their way. “Armed and dangerous, right?”

There was an audible intake of breath from everyone in the group and all eyes were on Shiro nervously. Lance looked away immediately. “Sorry, I --”

A faint chuckle quickly turned into a full-on laugh. “Sharpshooter, you’ve got a point!”

“Really?!” Lance jerked his attention back to Shiro and grinned hugely.

“Ah, bonding,” Hunk sighed, attention already elsewhere. “I’m pretty sure all the junk shops around here are in the back...”

“Past the food court,” Pidge finished for him. He nodded.

“Better get moving then.” Shiro took the lead abreast with Lance; the other three trailed after.

“Feels like a field trip,” Lance said after a moment. “Everyone has to stay together and follow the leader.”

“And try not to get into trouble.” Keith inserted himself between the two. “I don’t think the security around here wears uniforms. Not anything recognizable, anyway. I just saw some random alien flash a badge and arrest someone.”

All the more reason to get in and out as quickly as possible. Shiro quickened his pace but as they passed a narrow side passage lined with smaller, cheaper shops, Lance suddenly stopped and backtracked, calling “hold up a sec!” as he disappeared into one of the dimly-lit booths. Pidge headed after him a moment later, no doubt drawn by the blinking lights of some circuitboard item inside a glass case.

Shiro sighed, momentum lost. Might as well let have some fun now so they could get it out of their system and bring their focus back to the task at hand.

“Well, we were looking for junk shops and this one is as promising as any.” He gestured to Hunk and Keith. “Be my guests. I’ll give everyone ten minutes.”

The entrance to the shop was small but once inside it widened out considerably. It was dimly lit at intervals by small hanging lamps that gave off a golden glow and the faint smell of incense. Tools, unidentifiable fabric pieces, and long trailing loops of electronic wires hung from the ceiling, making visibility poor and moving slow. The aisles were more like corralled rows of shelves and larger items in no particular order; already the paladins were split up, Lance and Pidge no longer in sight among the merchandise.

Shiro tapped Hunk’s elbow to get his attention. “Can you help me find the crystals we need? I’ll breathe easier once we’ve got those in hand.”

“Sure thing.” While this mall trip felt fun, it wouldn’t do to forget the very serious reason they were there. The castle ought to be safely camouflaged out in the wasteland, but there was always the chance of discovery, and without shields -- “Maybe we can ask the manager where the crystals would be.”

There was a low counter along one wall of the shop that the humans assumed was the checkout area, but it was currently unmanned and there was no sign of anyone in the shop other than themselves.

Hunk shrugged. “I guess we wait.” He went up to the counter anyway, looking for a bell or some other way of summoning a clerk.

“Hey!” Lance popped out of nowhere from around the end of one of the shelving units. “Hunk!” He came up to the counter carrying a glass jar filled with a smoky liquid. Both Shiro and Hunk side-eyed it suspiciously and looked to the Blue Paladin for explanation.

“Smell it,” Lance prompted, gesturing eagerly. “It reminds me of something but I can’t quite place it.”

Shiro reached for the jar first, still not sure this was a good idea. But unscrewing the lid only gave off a heady fake fruit smell -- nothing too bad. Hunk leaned forward and his eyes grew big.

“Green apple jolly ranchers.”

“Really? Huh.” Lance took the jar and gave it another sniff.

Hunk nodded vigorously. “Positive. I can practically taste it.”

“Cool. Never know what you’ll find around here!” Lance took the jar and looked for the price tag but it was in a squiggly script that he couldn’t read. Placing it on the nearest shelf, he wiped his hands on his pants.

Despondently, Hunk chewed his lower lip. “Dang, man, now you’ve got me really wanting candy.”

“I wonder if there’s a place we can get some, like a space Halloween store or something,” Lance commented.

Shiro mentally tallied up the handful of assorted currency Coran had given him back at the castle. There was no telling how much it was actually worth, especially after millennia of devaluation, but hopefully there would be enough for a trip to the food court after this shopping trip. A change of diet ought to make everyone happy; food goo got monotonous really fast. He was about to suggest looking for a sweets shop when Hunk shook his head.

“Nah, better not trust anything made by aliens. I’d be better off making it myself.”

“You might be a kitchen wizard, but where are you gonna get the ingredients? Good luck finding blue raspberry flavor in space!” Lance leaned back against one of the shelves, which swayed under his weight until he quickly straightened himself.

“What on earth is a blue raspberry?” Keith chimed in, stepping out of the shadows to join their conversation.

Hunk and Lance both looked at him in shock. “Heathen!” they accused together.

Keith snorted and went around them up to the counter. “Pidge found some crystals that look like what we’re looking for. She should be here in a minute... if there’s someone here to ring us up.”

“I’ll go find her.” Shiro stepped out of the circle of light around the counter. How had he not realized that Pidge wasn’t with the rest of them? Of all the people to be off on their own, he was the most worried about her, with her tendency to hyperfocus on one thing and ignore her surroundings.

“Pidge?” he called, moving slowly through the store to avoid getting tangled in hanging items or tripping over low, just-at-shin-height ones.

“Over here.” Her voice came from some distance to his right, and he made his way down an aisle to find her fishing through a giant trunk full of jewelry. There was a pile at her feet of necklaces and earrings, all made of different pastel crystals that glowed faintly. “Not all these pieces are still viable,” she said, still elbow-deep in the glittering strands like pearls, “but I think out of all those, at least one will work. I’m thinking about wiring up several together to split the load so they don’t get burned out so easily.”

“Good thinking.” Shiro knelt and helped her gather up all the pieces into her arms. Some of the necklaces spilled over, draping down to her knees in a crystal waterfall. “Is there anything else you want to look at in here?”

Pidge stared at him. “ _Is there_?! Oh yeah, I want to take everything in here apart at least once.” She laughed at his taken aback expression. “But there’s always next time, right? I think the Castle is pretty important right now.”

“You know it wasn’t your fault that this happened.” He reached out toward her but she clutched the jewelry closer to her chest. “You were dealing with totally alien technology; no one expected you to be perfect at it.”

“But this isn’t the place for mistakes,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “What if I had blown out the life support instead? Or just blown up the whole ship, period?”

“It still wouldn’t be your fault.”

“Then whose would it be? Hunk’s? Coran’s?”

“Look,” Shiro started and trailed off into silence. It was hard to say this with conviction when he didn’t always believe it himself. “Sometimes things happen and they’re no one’s fault. Sometimes you’ve just... got to accept that that’s the way things are now and it’s time to move on.”

Pidge looked up at him, eyes dark in the poor lighting. He couldn’t quite read her expression and he hoped that she wouldn’t be able to read his, either.

A sharp whistle caught his attention, followed by Keith calling, “Hey guys! Cashier’s here.”

By the time all five of them reconvened at the counter, another customer had already taken their place in line and was currently laying out an assortment of items on the counter. The clerk was a tall skinny creature with coarse white fur, looking a bit like a macaque monkey except for the four arms that were typing away at the register with surprising speed.

Pidge stood in line behind the avian creature currently checking out. Clearly she had had her place in line stolen once and wasn’t going to risk it again. Shiro wondered if maybe he should put her in charge of the haggling; she wasn’t the most intimidating, but she could strike a mean deal if needed. Except that the multi-eyed bird was taking its time haggling over _every single piece_ of merchandise, and the clerk seemed in no great hurry either.

“Man, this is taking _forever_ ,” Lance groaned, dramatically throwing out his arms and narrowly missing knocking over a display case of gilded sporks.

Shiro chose to ignore his team as best he could; they weren’t getting into trouble for the time being, so he might as well try to enjoy himself. There was a display off to one side of the counter which seemed interesting, some sort of astrolabe-like object rotating slowly, different symbols along the edge glowing in a pattern. While its purpose was unclear, it would make an interesting decoration at the very least. If money wasn’t a problem, Shiro might have considered taking a closer look. His quarters on the castle were less than homey, as the other paladins had noted on more than one occasion, and something like this would at least add a bit of a personal touch.

Most of the items the avian was buying were cloth or scraggly wooden pieces which could only be thought of as nesting materials. Shiro would have raised an eyebrow, but at this point there wasn’t much that could faze him. Well, there probably was, but he didn’t intend to get into situations where he could be surprised like that. Surprises in the arena were a quick ticket to injury or death.

Yay, his mind was back on _that_ track again.

Beside him, Pidge groaned and shifted the load in her arms.

“You want a hand?” Keith offered but she shook her head.

“I _want_ this guy to hurry up,” she muttered under her breath, heading up to the counter to dump her armload there. Maybe that would give them the message to move things along.

Except as soon as her arms were empty, there was a sudden flurry of movement as she pulled herself halfway up onto the countertop, grabbed something, and retreated to the relative safety of Shiro’s side before either of the aliens could respond.

The feathered creature squawked at them in a harsh dialect and moved to reclaim its purchase but Hunk moved to block its way, curiosity overtaking politeness.

“What is that?” he asked, leaning in for a closer look at the bit of shiny metal in Pidge’s hands.

“I don’t --” she started, then clenched her fingers until they turned white.

Lance crowded close and reached for the item but stopped abruptly at the way she was staring at the device like it had just shot her through the heart. With a sense of impending dread, Shiro tapped on her fingers until they unclenched enough to show a rectangular chrome body and a black screen.

“What’s going on?” Keith came over from where he’d been working his way out of the shop. “We done here yet?”

Shiro remained staring over Pidge’s shoulder, eyes locked on the device. It was eerily familiar to him as well, echoes of a time that he had thought was buried under the Galra shadow. He’d seen this before. Lying on the _Persephone_ ’s control console, tossed on the bunk opposite his, sticking out of a back pocket with earbuds wrapped around it.

In a moment his hand shot out, wrenching it away from her. She struggled, her face suddenly furious, but he used his full strength and she didn’t stand a chance. Flipping it over and holding it at just the right angle in the light, there were scratches visible marring the shine of the metal, initials carved there with a miniature screwdriver one night after Shiro had jokingly claimed the iPod was his and had hidden it under his pillow.

M.H.

Matt Holt.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out the [art](http://hijackedbylou.tumblr.com/post/163988451577/my-contribution-to-impendingexoduss-wonderful) for this chapter!!

Pidge grabbed the iPod back, fingers unthinkingly cruel as she twisted it from Shiro’s hand. She needed to see for herself, hold it for herself. The other paladins were dead silent around her; they’d all noticed the Earth-based design and it wasn’t hard to guess what that meant.

“Hey, Pidge,” Hunk started to say softly. His hands wavered, not sure if he should reach out to her or not. She hunched her shoulders and didn’t say anything.

A long arm covered in thin white fur shot out from behind the counter and latched onto the iPod. “Excuse me,” the shopkeeper glared at them, “you are going to pay for that, aren’t you?”

Keith stepped up -- he didn’t have his bayard, but his right hand was tucked under his cloak, clearly reaching for his Marmora knife. Acting quickly to break up things before they got ugly, Shiro pushed his way past the still unresponsive Pidge and stood squarely in front of the counter.

“Well?” The creature’s red eyes gave nothing away. Beside him, the avian customer was glaring daggers but was silent.

Now that he was here, Shiro didn’t know what to say. He reached for the wallet clipped to his belt but was stopped by Lance’s hand on his arm.

“Don’t be cruel,” Lance said, the words directed at the shopkeeper. “That item belonged to her long-lost brother; can’t you just give it to her free?” The bird hissed at him but he stood his ground. “Please?”

The clerk took on a contemplative expression and leaned forward slowly. “No.”

“But --”

“Don’t bother arguing,” Keith cut in. “It’ll just waste time.” Additionally, it would draw attention to themselves and though the shop was mostly deserted even one witness was too many.

Shiro took out some paper currency from the wallet, not really sure of how much it was actually worth. Coran had said to simply hand over money in small increments until the shopkeeper caved -- a straightforward way of bargaining. “How much would you be willing to take --”

“Not for sale.” The bird spoke its first intelligible words in a badly accented tone. “Give it back.”

Pidge moved closer, squeezing herself into the safe zone between Hunk’s bulk and Shiro’s muscle. She showed no signs of relinquishing her prize; in fact, she was gripping it tighter than before, running her thumb over the initials scratched into its surface.

Shiro turned from offering the money to the shopkeeper to offering it to the customer. “Name your price.”

“Give it back,” the alien rasped again. Feeling his face losing its polite expression, Shiro gripped the money tighter. There were several ways to solve this situation, and as far as he could see, all of them ended in security being called.

Unless...

“Lance, the door!” Dropping the money in a wild flutter of paper, Shiro lunged across the counter and grabbed the shopkeeper by one of its skinny arms. Keith’s knife was out in an instant, quickly morphing into its much longer sword form as he took up a defensive stance at Shiro’s side. But the bird was no threat, wrapping its feathered arms around its head as it backed up slowly, and the clerk gave up after only a futile moment of struggle.

“What now?” Lance was in the narrow doorway, unsure whether he was supposed to be keeping people in or out.

“Close it up!” Hunk yelled, moving to help him heave the door shut and lock it.

Keith didn’t move from his position but he did glance around nervously once. “Are we not going to need a way out?”

“Not just yet,” Shiro answered, slowly relinquishing his grip. “We’re going to stay here until we get this sorted out, then we’re going to leave like civilized people. No one gets hurt. Understood?” He looked to both of the aliens for confirmation then motioned for Hunk to come back to the counter. “Keep an eye on them,” he muttered.

Meanwhile Pidge was a few steps away in the circle of light under one of the lamps. As Hunk took up a sentinel position at the counter with Keith, Shiro and Lance came over to see what secrets the iPod would hold. Pidge pulled a cord from the depths of her shorts pocket and fiddled with it a moment before she plugged it into the device, which lit up and beeped as it powered up for the first time in a year.

“Give me a second,” Pidge said, eyes flickering constantly back and forth as she waited for the startup screen to load. The iPod was smudged and dirty but surprisingly intact after its time in alien hands. Shiro felt a strangled chuckle rising up in his throat, that this flimsy bit of technology had managed to fare better than any of the humans on that awful mission.

“Uh oh.” Lance frowned as the screen lit up and showed a lock icon. “At least you’re good at cracking passwords, yeah?”

“I don’t need to crack it.” Pidge’s thumbs moved quickly, almost fast enough to hide the fact that she was trembling. “It’s always the same on all our stuff.”

Shiro gulped at her use of the plural pronoun. Somehow, sometimes he forgot how close the siblings had been. How he forgot, he didn’t know, not when they looked so alike he sometimes mistook glimpses of Pidge for her brother.

There was a bright _ding_ sound and the iPod was unlocked, showing rows of bright little icons. It looked so achingly familiar, a touch of home here in the middle of an alien junk shop on the far side of the universe.

“Um.” Pidge hesitated, fingers poised uncertainly over the screen. Now that she was in, she wasn’t sure what she was looking for. The photos app, maybe? Her thumb wavered. She touched the calendar app instead; she would go through the photos later, when she was on her own. This wasn’t the time or place for emotions.

The iPod flashed up the calendar but the dates were from last year. Without the _Persephone_ ’s computer to keep it updated, its internal clock had given out and it happily displayed the very date of the fateful incident. Brusquely she pushed the home button and skimmed through the rest of the apps, but the notepad was empty and the other functions didn’t give her any information. She couldn’t even bring herself to open up the music and find out what the last song was -- Matt had always had a penchant for old ballads and even on a good day, hearing his music was usually enough to make Pidge emotional. Not now, not now.

A large splash of wetness dripped off the tip of her nose and pooled on the screen. There were tentative hands on her back and shoulders, trying to offer comfort, but she roughly shook herself and stepped away from them. Not bothering to wipe her eyes -- impossible to do with glasses, anyway -- she strode right up to the counter where the two aliens were pinned under the watchful glares of the Red and Yellow Paladins.

“I want to know where you got this,” she demanded.

The bird twittered and took a step back, shrinking in on itself as the shopkeeper took the brunt of Pidge’s murderous stare.

The furred alien blinked its red eyes and looked back, unfazed. “Around. I’m a dealer, I get stuff from everywhere.”

“But you’ve got to keep records of all your transactions, right? I want to see it, now!”

The shopkeeper leaned forward, prompting Keith’s blade to be brought up to point at its throat. “I don’t catalog every single little piece of merchandise. I don’t know where I got that thing. Although if you want it so badly, just take it and go. Stop scaring my customers.”

Pidge backed off for a moment, but only long enough to tuck the iPod safely into the pocket of her shorts. Then she surged upwards, pushing herself up onto the counter until she knelt there, on equal height with the alien. “Where did you get it?”

Reaching out a nervous hand, Keith pushed at her shoulder until she retreated again out of reach of the clerk’s long arms. “I’ve got a better idea,” he said, placing himself in front of Pidge. “How about you tell us everything we want to know, _then_ we’ll leave you be?” The sword tip glimmered with pale purple light, fueled by righteous anger.

The shopkeeper looked about to reply when Shiro pulled Keith back with a firm frown. “I don’t think threats are the way to go, not when you can’t follow through on them.”

Keith’s expression showed that he had every intention of following through, but he relaxed somewhat with an angry sound.

The situation was getting nowhere and they were wasting time. There was a light knocking on the door and Lance yelled, “Sorry! We’re closed!” then looked at the rest of the group anxiously. “We can’t hole up in here all day, guys.”

“Fine.” They all turned in surprise to see the shopkeeper folding his four arms across his chest. “How about I just let you all go? I won’t even call security.”

Hunk narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you taking _pity_ on us?”

“For your desperate lack of skill in the art of burglary? Yes. I am.”

“As much as we appreciate the offer, we still need to know where you got the item,” Shiro said.

The clerk looked unimpressed. “I told you, I don’t know. I get a lot of my stuff from, hm, _anonymous_ sources that prefer to stay off the books.”

“So this is a fence?”

“Not officially, no.”

What could they do with that information? Blackmail? The clerk didn’t seem the type to be concerned by that. There wasn’t much he _was_ concerned about, it seemed.

“What if we were able to jog your memory?” Keith spoke up. Shiro was about to call him down again for advocating violence, but the Marmora sword was safely pointed at the floor. “You’re a trader, right? Maybe we can strike a bargain.”

A gleam caught in the shopkeeper’s eye. “I like you.”

Keith grimaced at that but continued, “How much would you tell us in exchange for...” He turned around, looking over their small group. There wasn’t much of anything valuable; their costumes had been specifically chosen to be drab and everyday.

But the shopkeeper was already shaking his head. “I don’t think you have anything to interest me. Sorry.”

A slow smile spread across Shiro’s face. “How about a very antique shuttlecraft that’s in perfect condition? I’ve been told it’s quite a beauty.”

With horror, four sets of eyes landed on him. “Um, Shiro?” Hunk spoke up. “You do realize that’s our only ride home, right? I can’t just build you a new one.”

“How antique?” the shopkeeper interrupted.

“War era.”

“Which war?”

“Ten-thousand-years ago.” At the alien’s incredulous expression, Shiro elaborated, “It’s been in storage for a long time. We flew it here, though, so it definitely still works.”

“Original interior?”

“Yep.”

The top pair of arms unfolded and the shopkeeper offered him a hand to shake. “Sir, you’ve got yourself a deal!”

 

* * *

 

“Wait, wait, wait. So you’re telling us you don’t even _know_ where this stuff came from? After we promised you a ship and everything?!”

“Lance, breathe.” Hunk patted his leg where Lance was sitting side-saddle on the edge of the counter.

“Not at all,” the shopkeeper -- his name was Piraq -- said. “Just that I can give you only a vague idea of its origins. I get a lot of my wares from the Galra prison ships; it’s stuff that they’ve confiscated off of prisoners. Not like they have any use for it any more.”

There was a round of uncomfortable silence until Pidge cleared her throat. “Can you at least tell us which ship it came off of, and how long ago?”

“Sure.” Piraq pulled a sheaf of papers from a drawer in the counter. “Lot 23? That came in only two days ago, on the ship... Oh. I apologize in advance. It was sold to me by a prison warden on Commander Navvik’s ship.”

“Who’s that?” Keith asked, glancing to see if Shiro had any knowledge of the name. The Black Paladin shook his head.

The shopkeeper elaborated, “He’s in charge of this sector. A smart one, if you ask me. He doesn’t interfere with planetary affairs much, as long as everyone behaves and pays tribute. He was here a few days ago to check up on things and that’s when my contact offloaded the merchandise. From the amount of it, he’d been hoarding it for quite some time.”

“So there’s a good chance that Matt was on Navvik’s prison ship,” Shiro said. “Or at least he was transferred there, if that’s where his belongings ended up.”

Piraq shrugged two sets of shoulders. “I wouldn’t know. That’s all the information I have on that shipment, though. There were some other odds and ends but most of it has already sold. If you can think of anything specific, I can maybe look for it in the back?”

Shiro shook his head. “There’s not anything of mine that I need back.” Not now anyway, after they’d all learned to make do with what they had. He glanced at Pidge. “Is there anything of your family’s that you want to look for?”

She swallowed thickly and looked away. “Not particularly. Dad and Matt weren’t big on sentimental stuff, so...”

Hunk laid a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

“So what’s the next step here, guys?” Lance asked, sliding off the counter and bouncing to his feet. “Charge in and tell this Navvik dude to spill where Pidge’s family is?”

“I don’t think --” Shiro began but was interrupted by the shopkeeper.

“Aside from being pure suicide, that won’t work for another reason. Navvik is probably out of the solar system by now, and unless you have a ship capable of wormhole travel, you’re not going to catch him.”

“We can lure him back here then,” Keith said. “Save us the trip.”

“It’s not like he’s going to come back here just because we ask nicely.”

“No, but if we can make it worth his while...” Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “He wants the planets to pay tribute, right? So what if we could threaten his power base that way; don’t attack him directly, but --”

“Like, take the mall hostage?” Lance burst out excitedly, interrupting Shiro for the second time.

A gleam of toothy grins spread infectiously around the small circle of paladins. Even Keith was smiling now, a dangerous thing, body relaxed enough to lean against the counter but still ready for action.

Pidge held up a hand to get everyone’s attention. “How are we going to do this, logistically? We’re not armed, nor are we the most intimidating group to pass through this place. Navvik’s got to see us as a serious threat if he’s going to take the bait.”

“That’s where Piraq is going to earn himself a vintage shuttlecraft.” Shiro looked to the alien in question. “How willing would you be to testify that we are dangerous criminals and our threats should be taken seriously?”

“Right now? You’ve got no proof. You’d need to kill at least a few people before anyone takes you seriously. Unless you can do something big... Taking the entire mall hostage is certainly ambitious, but I think if you do a good enough job of it, I might be willing to stick my neck out and help out with the panic aspect of things.”

“No offense,” Hunk said, scratching his head, “but why are you okay with this? Couldn’t you get in trouble or something?”

“Can’t be a shopkeeper without taking some risks,” Piraq smiled back. It was true, for a supposedly upstanding business manager, he did seem awfully comfortable dealing with stolen wares. No one pressed the subject farther.

After that, with Piraq’s advice, they were able to design a plan that seemed flawless in its simplicity and utter impulsiveness. Lance would distract the nearest security guard, allowing Pidge to hack into the mall’s computer system and put it into lockdown. That would close off one smaller section of the mall so the five of them wouldn’t have to try and keep control over the entire complex. Meanwhile, Shiro and Keith would round up as many people as possible -- Piraq suggested only targeting individuals who _didn’t_ look armed to the teeth with concealed weapons -- and create a hostage situation. Hunk would be responsible for minor fireworks (he’d been pointed toward a shop that specialized in explosives) and causing general panic and confusion.

“Well,” Lance said, folding up the map brochure that Piraq had provided, “this is certainly a lot different than last time. I never guessed I’d be _intentionally_ pissing off security!”

Keith gave him an honest smile. “Think you can manage it?”

“You do realize that you’re talking to the only person who ever made Iverson lose his cool? Multiple times?”

“Lance, that’s hardly something to brag about.” Hunk shook his head fondly.

“In this instance it is!”

Shiro took once more look at his team with a critical eye. They were all enthusiastic enough about this, and their previous encounters had more than proved their skill. Still, it was unsettling to have command over their lives. If something was to go wrong, it would be because they were trusting in him so completely, letting him lead them right over the edge of the cliff.

“Everyone be careful out there, okay?”

They shifted their attention to him and gave various nods and words of agreement. Good, at least they were aware that this wasn’t all a game. Although they might as well make what fun of it they could.

“Piraq, when you call up Commander Navvik, tell him that the Dread Space Pirate Roberts is here to collect his due. See if that will get his attention.”

“So we _do_ get to use fake names!” Lance’s happiness was palpable. He puffed out his chest and jabbed a thumb at himself. “I’m the Sharpshooter, of course.”

Meanwhile Hunk was looking at Shiro with something next to awe. “I never would have pegged you as a fan,” he muttered.

Shiro shrugged. “It’s a classic. Some scenes just stuck with me.”

“We’ve even got the Beasts of Unusual Size, too!”

Pidge, Lance, and Keith were watching the exchange with some confusion. “Well if you two are done talking about obscure movie references, are we ready to go kick some Galra butt now?” Lance asked, earning himself a glare from Hunk.

“It’s not an obscure movie! You just failed to stay awake until the interesting part.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Romance is boring; give me an action movie any day.” He cracked his knuckles. “Ready to go yet?”

With a final nod and words of encouragement, Shiro dismissed the paladins to their assigned duties of chaos and mayhem. Time to go _intentionally_ provoke the sleeping giant.

 

* * *

 

Rounding up mall-goers was easy. Keeping them contained in one place was not.

Shiro and Keith had never been on the aggressive side of a terrorism attack so they were rather unprepared for just how difficult it was to keep order among the hostages. Even in the process of rounding them up -- and most of them were spindly, pastel-skinned creatures with filmy wings that looked like they couldn’t possibly be a threat -- there were some that tried to sneak away, or bargain with them, or straight up fight back.

Shiro was reluctant to activate his arm, afraid of unintentionally hurting someone, but once the aliens were in a somewhat unified group he stood in front of them and let his prosthetic burn with purple energy. Electricity filled the air, dancing in sparks along his skin and drawing the hushed attention of the crowd.

“Listen up,” he started, voice loud enough to startle himself. “I have no intention of hurting any of you. If you sit quietly and don’t cause trouble, then you’ll all be free to go by the end of the day.”

There was some uneasy shuffling, but the majority of the hostages sat down on the open floor of the plaza. All the surrounding shops had been emptied of customers, either captured or in hiding. Glancing around to make sure there wouldn’t be any trouble, Shiro saw that one blue-skinned alien was still standing, waving her arms helplessly and talking to Keith.

“What’s the problem?” he asked quietly, approaching the two.

The alien turned to face him.

“Please, sir,” she trilled, eyes wide. “Please. My child and I, we do not wish to die. Please let us go. We will be of no harm to you.”

Shiro held up his hands placatingly; the alien flinched at the sight of his still-glowing prosthetic. “I promise, we’re not here to --”

“Shiro,” Keith hissed in a low voice. “We’re pirates, remember?”

Right. _Right_. They weren’t supposed to be comforting people any more right now. With a dour face, Shiro lowered his hands and faced the blue-skinned girl. “Get back in the group. Stay down and stay quiet, and you won’t get hurt.” Tears started to form at the corners of her eyes and he had to bite his tongue. “Go. Now.”

She hurried away, head down and cowed, to the group of hostages where she gathered a child up in her arms and huddled in on herself.

Shiro turned to Keith, who looked no more happy about the situation than Shiro felt.

“Somehow, it was easier when we were trying to _save_ everyone,” Keith said.

Nodding agreement, Shiro looked over the miserable group of aliens. “It wasn’t easier per se, it just felt... lighter.”

“Yeah.” Keith sighed. “I never realized it took so much energy to be the bad guy.”

“Same here. But we’ve got to keep up the image for just a while longer. Hopefully Navvik is selfish over his possessions and he’s going to come running to deal with us.”

“Let’s just hope his method of ‘dealing’ isn’t to bomb this whole place and call it a day.”

Shiro’s shoulders sagged a bit. The fear was valid, but there was nothing they could do about it, not from where they were right now.

“Just keep patrolling for the time being,” he said, looking pointedly at where one of the aliens was slowing inching away from the group. Noticing his gaze on them, they crept back into place with a timid expression. “We’ll deal with any problems as they come.”

“Of course.” Keith headed away from him. His knife was in his hand, but it wasn’t extended to its full form -- he wasn’t in the right state of mind to activate it. The ‘blade of justice’ Shiro had called it jokingly, saying that only the pure of heart could use it... and their intentions right now, while with a good end in mind, were anything but acceptable.

Things were definitely not going the way Shiro had anticipated. It had all seemed so straightforward in the planning stage. With a sigh, he channeled just enough energy into his arm so that it glowed dimly, a constant reminder, and continued on his patrol around the perimeter of the group.

 

* * *

 

Across the plaza, Pidge and Lance were having a much better time hanging out in the guardpost. The security officer had been distracted enough by Lance’s insults that Pidge had managed to slip in completely unnoticed and hack the system. Lance had led the guard into the bathrooms, then circled around behind him quickly and gotten out before the doors slammed shut in lockdown mode.

“Nice one, Pidge!” He came crowding into the one-man security station and leaned his elbows on the back of Pidge’s chair. She turned half toward him to make sure he was uninjured, then went back to typing with a noncommittal grunt.

“So... what now?” he drawled, poking at some of the flashing lights on the console.

“I’ve managed to completely lock down this section of the mall. No one’s getting in or out.” She slapped at his hand but he withdrew before she could catch him. “Gimme a few more minutes and I should have the entire complex under my control.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully it’ll be enough to catch the Galra’s attention. The last thing we want is for them to just blow us off as petty crooks.”

There was a moment of silence broken only by rapid keystrokes and Pidge muttering to herself. Finally Lance tapped her shoulder when she seemed to reach a stopping point. She glanced up, a slight scowl on her face at being interrupted, but his expression was serious.

“Everything okay, Lance?”

“It’s just that -- are _you_ okay? I mean, finding that iPod has got to be awesome and... not, all at the same time. You haven’t really said much since you got ahold of it.”

Pidge pushed her glasses farther up her nose, fidgeting with the frames needlessly. “I’m okay,” she said at last in a voice that really wasn’t okay.

Lance hunkered down by her knees and looked up at her. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I just miss him is all. And dad, too. My whole family is,” she waved an arm vaguely, “out there somewhere.”

“Mine too, y’know.”

She gave him a small smile. “I know. We’re all in the same sinking ship together, right?”

“You bet!” Lance replied, but his cheerfulness rang a bit hollow. It was a sore subject with all of them, the idea of those they’d left behind, and no one ever brought it up in conversation. It was as if they had all decided that it was better to suffer in silence than to burden their fellow paladins, because all it took -- like now -- was for one person to trigger a wave of depression in all of them.

Pidge moved one hand from her keyboard down to her shorts pocket, where she pressed against the rigid outline of the iPod. Her brother had kept it close, his hand had rested where hers was now. It was all so frustrating, this trail of breadcrumbs that led her nowhere yet she still kept hoping and hoping. Every time there was some new bit of information, it would feed the furnace of her hopes, and every time she would grow cold and numb again when it invariably turned into a dead end.

Lance leaned heavily against her leg, his attention wandering back to the flashing lights on the control panels. “It’ll be nice to go home again.” His fingers picked at the fraying hem of his cloak. “Once everything’s over and we _can_. How long can a war last, anyway?”

Clenching her hands over the keyboard, Pidge resisted pointing out that in all of ten thousand years, the conflict still had never been resolved. They might have made a far longer commitment to Voltron than probably any of them had realized at the time.

 

* * *

  

About the same time as the security guard was getting locked in the bathroom and Shiro and Keith were finishing rounding up the last of the hostages, Hunk was just putting the finishing touches to the array of explosives. Small handfuls of assorted firecrackers were placed strategically around the nearby shops, not enough to damage the structures, but hopefully enough to cause a lot of smoke and tremors.

“I’m not a demolitions expert; I have no idea why I’m the one always chosen for these stunts,” Hunk muttered to himself, a fuse clenched between his teeth as he worked on wiring up the last set. “There. That should do it.”

He climbed down the ladder where it was propped against the front facade of a clothing store.

“Looks good,” Piraq called from his position a safe distance away. One pair of arms was on his hips (theoretically) and the other was polishing the screen of a personal comm camera. “Just don’t set anything off until I say so. To make the most of the blast, you’ll want to wait until Navvik’s ship is close enough to pick it up. That way he’ll think you’re serious about taking down the mall.”

“Yay.”

“You sound less than enthusiastic about this.”

Hunk wiped his sweaty hands on his pants. “Well, I mean there’s the chance that I did something wrong and people are going to get hurt. Then there’s the chance that I actually did everything _right_ , which means that according to plan we’re all gonna end up as Galra bait. I can’t say I’m happy with either prospect, right now.”

“But this is the only way to help your friend’s family?”

“Pidge seems to think so. Navvik’s records will at least give us a better idea of what area of space to start looking in, if we can figure out when and where Matt jumped ship. Everything’s just wishful thinking at this point.”

Piraq backed up a step and surveyed the garland of explosives festooning the eaves, laced together with fuses and wires. “Now’s as good a time as ever, I suppose. I’ll go crying to Navvik to report the damage, let him know the Dread Pirate Roberts is here to challenge him.”

Hunk grinned slightly; even though he’d been there for the conversation, it was still amusing to hear an alien talk so obliviously about what any human would immediately recognize as a joke. Still, if the _Princess Bride_ got them onto the command ship safely... well, Hunk would never make fun of movie references again.

“Good luck,” Hunk said as Piraq headed back to his shop.

One furry arm lifted in acknowledgment. “If we don’t see each other again, I wish the same to you. Maybe the lot of you will grow some common sense some day and make a _real_ name for yourselves as pirates.”

“Um, thanks?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second picture in [this post](http://hijackedbylou.tumblr.com/post/163988451577/my-contribution-to-impendingexoduss-wonderful) goes with this chapter.

Apparently Piraq was a convincing actor, because he emerged from his shop just a few ticks later.

“Hunk!” he shouted, as the Yellow Paladin was the nearest. Shiro and Keith, out in the middle of the plaza, turned to listen too. “He bought it! Says he’ll be here to ‘liberate’ us in just a moment.”

Pidge and Lance bailed out of the security post at that instant, shouting over each other as they ran to join Shiro.

“Scans show a Galra fleet just came in by wormhole,” Pidge panted, gesturing with her tablet. “They’ll be here really soon.”

“This is good, right?” Lance asked.

Shiro nodded jerkily, even though he really wasn’t sure if this was good at all. He’d hoped the plan would work, of course, but it may have worked a little _too_ well.

“We need to get to the bays,” he ordered. “Find ourselves a ship we can use since we can’t be seen piloting an Altean shuttle.”

“Um, actually,” Hunk started, then paused.

“What?”

“Well the bay is kinda on lockdown because of Pidge’s code and all, so actually I was thinking --” he turned to gesture out at the plaza, where a sports model shuttlecraft was parked on display. “If we’re going to be pirates, we might as well steal something, right?”

Lance clapped him on the back. “Wow buddy, once you get into character, you really go all the way, don’t’cha? I never would have thought you had it in you!”

“That’s a brand new... something or other,” Pidge said, adjusting her tinted glasses. “I have no idea if it’s space-worthy, much less battle-worthy.”

The ship was long and slim, jet black with orange flames curling over the nose and engine fins. Not much in the way of armor or weapons, at least to the naked eye, but it looked fast and maneuverable. And flashy. Very flashy. Expensive, too, no doubt. The kind of ship some overpaid commander might fly in his time off, or just the type of ship a space pirate might fly if he wanted to flaunt his skill in both flying and theft.

It was a choice between hijacking the display model, or stealing one from the bays and potentially starting a feud with one of the more unsavory mall customers. Overall, there was less damage to be done by stealing this model and hoping it was impressive enough to make Navvik take them all seriously. At the very least, they’d have one real crime to add to their spotless record.

“Think you can make it fly?” Shiro asked, turning to Pidge and Hunk, who were already sizing up the craft from a distance.

The two shot him identical sly looks. Pidge even cracked a lopsided grin, her eyes twinkling with the thrill of a challenge. “ _Can we?_ ” They took off and were crawling all over the hull in a matter of moments, opening panels and rerouting wires with nimble fingers.

Lance glanced over at where Piraq was still watching them from the doorway of his shop. He waved tentatively but the alien gave him a flat look and held out his hand.

“Whoops, forgot to give him his due,” Lance murmured, catching Shiro’s eye.

“I hope Allura’s not going to mind.” Shiro dug around in his belt pouch for the keycode to the shuttle, and tossed it over. Piraq caught it easily, quadruple arms folding it close to his chest like something precious.

“Good luck to you all,” the alien said, quiet enough to not be overheard by the crowd starting to grow restless on the plaza. “Hopefully you’ll do better on your own next time.”

“It’s not like we’re making a habit of this,” Keith muttered to himself. “Although I do have to say, we make pretty crap pirates.”

Taking one last glance around to make sure that everything was still mostly under control, Shiro motioned the two paladins closer. “I need to know that you two are okay with how things are going. Keith, you’ll back me up on the Galra cruiser; you can call Red to you if needed, so we’ll always have an escape route just in case. Lance, you and Pidge will be heading back to the Castle to let Allura know what’s going on. She needs to know there’s no reason to worry about the fleet that just dropped in.”

Lance crossed his arms and glared and the Black and Red paladins in turn. “Why is it always me getting left behind?”

Shiro opened his mouth and closed it again after a moment. “I don’t know. I trust you to help Allura, so why don’t you --”

“Keith and Allura get along just fine, too, y’know.”

“What do you mean?” Keith retorted, searching for the veiled insult in Lance’s comment.

Shiro closed his eyes in defeat. “ _Fine_. Keith, you take Pidge back to the Castle. Make sure everyone’s safe; hold down the fort until I can contact you again. Lance, c’mon.”

Keith growled at Lance, but followed along obediently enough in Shiro’s footsteps. The trio approached the shuttlecraft -- it seemed wrong, to call something so sleek and venomous-looking a shuttle -- and looked up at the other two paladins.

“She’s all ready,” Hunk called, closing his panel with a snap and bolting it back into place. Pidge was just visible over the edge of the cockpit and she stood up, throwing her weight backward as she tugged on a stiff switch. The engines roared to life, bright blue flame flashing out and casting moving shadows on the shop walls. On the plaza, the crowd used the noise as a distraction to run for cover.

“Nicely done.” Shiro smiled as the two clambered back down to ground level. “Time to go meet some Galra, I guess.” His face sobered. “I’ll be in contact, don’t worry.”

“I’ll try not to,” Hunk said, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Wait, you’re coming --” Shiro turned as Hunk continued on to stand beside Keith, who was hanging back at the edge of their little group.

“ _I’m_ coming with you,” Pidge stated. She folded her arms and stood squarely in front of the ship. “Matt was captured by this Navvik guy; there’s no way I’m _not_ going to see if there are other clues on the prison ship!”

“Plus, have you seen the cockpit on that thing yet?” Hunk laughed halfheartedly. “No way I’ll fit in there, unless you’re planning on sending me in alone.”

So much for trying to plan things out in advance. Shiro shook his head. “Pidge, I understand you want to find your brother; I miss Matt too. But this mission is far too dangerous, I can’t ask you to --”

“You didn’t ask me. I volunteered. And if you want this thing hotwired and flying, you’ll need me in the cockpit. I’m _not_ staying behind for this one.”

And that was one argument that he didn’t want to get into right now. There was no sense ordering her to stay. She wouldn’t listen, and besides as much as he hated to think of it, she was one of the team now. Death or pain or capture -- those were things that came with the paladin armor, it seemed. She might as well do what she believed in; she knew the risks as much as the rest of them.

“All right. So tell me if anyone disagrees: Keith and Hunk will report back to the Castle. Lance and Pidge and I will go meet Navvik, try to impress him with our mad pirate skills, and get any info he has on the Holts. If bargaining goes well, then we should be free to leave; we’ll wait until his fleet leaves the system before rendezvousing with the Castle, to keep its location secret. If things go badly, then we’ll cut our own way out, and Keith and Hunk can back us up from the outside. Sound good?”

There was a moment of silent consideration, then nodded agreement all around.

“Then let’s go.”

Lance and Hunk bumped fists before turning to go their separate ways. Pidge waved, which Keith returned with less hesitation than Shiro had anticipated. Maybe the team really was becoming a family, after all. He just prayed that this mission wouldn’t tear apart their fragile bonds any more than the universe had already done.

 

* * *

 

The cockpit of the Viper (as Lance had named it and no one had bothered to argue) was clearly not made for multiple people. Shiro was seated in the pilot’s chair manning the main controls. Pidge was ensconced on the floor between his feet, hotwiring different systems online as they were needed, and helping man the foot pedals which were set too far forward for human legs to possibly reach. Lance was wedged in the small space against the back of Shiro’s chair, humming to himself and occasionally touching buttons that caused Pidge to yell at him.

Warriors they might be, but they were also children. They all were, really. Only Shiro had any idea of what they could be heading into, and it wasn’t something that he was eager to share. _Oh, by the way, if things go wrong for us like they did on Kerberos, we might not have the chance to radio for help. We might all get thrown into the arena again and there’s no way I’ll be able to save everyone this time around._

He swallowed around the sudden bile in his throat. What had he been thinking, letting any of them come along? It should be him alone in here. He could handle the prison ship, he’d done it before; plus, Matt’s fate was his fault. Shiro should be the only one here trying to rectify things, not dragging his team into hell. Again.

“Should have a visual any moment now,” Pidge spoke up from the floor. She craned her neck back but still wasn’t able to see much out the windshield.

“I see it,” Shiro answered, mind back on the mission. Everything would be fine, he told himself. No time to worry now, anyway. “The ship is hailing us.”

Lance leaned forward over his right shoulder. “What are you going to tell them?”

“Whatever they want to hear. Now sit down, please; I need to make a good impression.”

Instead of coming up with a comment about himself and good impressions, Lance quietly crouched out of sight behind the chair. It wasn’t often that he saw Shiro stressed, and the last thing he wanted to do was add to the situation. He’d been around the block enough times to know when it was okay to be smart, and when it was better to play it safe and sober up. This was definitely one of the very serious moments.

They all jumped just a little at the sudden burst of static through the speakers.

“Sorry, sorry,” Pidge hissed, spinning the volume dial.

“This is Commander Navvik’s flagship, of the Galra Empire. Are you the pirates foolish enough to demand an audience?”

“Yep, that would be us,” Shiro responded calmly with just a touch of insolence. The other two stared at him, at the way his hands were clenched tight on the controls but his voice was steady.

The thought was running through all their minds, _I really hope this doesn’t get us killed out of hand_ , but apparently the Galra comm officer was impressed by their bravado -- or was waiting to lure them on board before springing the inevitable trap.

“Use landing bay one. Docking instructions are being sent to you now.” The comm cut off and silence blanketed thick over the Viper’s cockpit.

Pidge clicked the system off. “We’re actually going to do this?”

“We’ve come this far,” Shiro answered. “Can you translate the instructions?”

Toggling through a few more buttons, Pidge transferred the landing data to the main screen. Lance leaned back over the chair to get a closer look. “That’s gonna be guarded for sure. I assume we’re actually going to land in bay two, just to throw them off. Right?”

Shiro shrugged. “There’ll be guards anyway. And I’d rather not piss them off any more than necessary.”

“Unless it’s a test to see how stupid and compliant we are,” Pidge spoke up. The two glanced down at where she was crouched over her tablet.

“We can’t second guess _everything_ ,” Shiro said, in a voice that showed just how much he was second guessing at the moment. “Show of hands: bay one or two?”

In the end, they went for bay one simply because the scanners showed that none of the others had the hangar doors open. Still, just for caution’s sake, they taxied the ship much farther into the depths of the bay than necessary. This bypassed the mechanical guards posted at the entrance, and gave the option of an easier escape route should it come to that.

Shiro stood up in the cockpit, the ceiling high enough to accommodate someone many feet taller. “Remember, we’re here to act tough and make a strong impression. If all goes well, we can barter the mall’s safety for the info we need. Pidge, Lance, be careful what you say. I don’t think I need to explain the kind of danger we’re in.”

They nodded solemnly. Pidge tucked her tablet securely into her knapsack and adjusted her glasses, wiping them on her sleeve before returning them to her face. The shiny green lenses glinted in the dim lights of the control board, completely obscuring her identity. Lance had his hood pulled up and was in the process of untangling some of the belts that had gotten crossed. His silhouette wasn’t terribly imposing, not when compared to even the smallest Galra, but there was an air of confidence around him that would make any attackers think twice.

Shiro was still wearing the columbina mask, his white hair and scar hidden away and hopefully anonymous. He wished he knew how far his reputation as a gladiator had spread. Would he be recognized and recaptured? Was this all a huge mistake just waiting to happen? The roof of the cockpit started retracting and there was no more time to think.

“Good luck, and stay sharp.” He vaulted out of the cockpit, landing squarely on his feet on the floor of the bay. Several security sentries were patrolling along the walls, but their arrival went generally ignored.

Pidge and Lance climbed down behind him.

“Some welcoming committee!”

“Let’s not underestimate them just yet. Follow me.”

There was a pair of guards waiting at the exit -- actual flesh and blood guards, not more sentry drones -- that stepped to block the way. “You’re the pirates?”

Pidge resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

The second guard sniffed audibly. “Shorter than I would have thought.”

Shiro moved to block her line of sight before she could retort. “We’re here to see Navvik. It’s best not to keep him or us waiting.”

After a moment more of grumbling, one of the guards turned to key open the door. The three paladins filed out after him, their steps echoing hollowly in the huge empty corridor beyond. There were only a few doors branching off to the sides, and the hangar door was noticeably larger and better fortified, so at least there was no danger of getting lost should they need to find their own way out. Still, it made them all nervous -- some more than others -- to know they were trapped inside an enemy ship, with solid metal and so much empty space between them and their friends.

Lance tapped Pidge’s shoulder and she fell back to join him abreast. Leaning his head down so they were almost touching, he muttered, “Is it just me, or are there a lot of guys following us, staying just out of sight?”

Stiffening, Pidge tried to surreptitiously look behind her, but there was nothing but purple lights and a single maintenance droid hovering near a control panel. “You sure you’re not imagining things?” she whispered back. “I’ll admit, this place is kind of creepy.”

“I’m not --” he started, then straightened abruptly. The guard leading them had stopped in front of a tall door emblazoned with the crest of the Empire.

Shiro motioned for them all to stand close as the door swung open silently. With one last glance, he stepped forward and into the darkness beyond the threshold. Once inside, their eyes adjusted and the room wasn’t quite as dark, although the dim violet lights set in the far wall did serve to create eerie shadows that stretched the length of the floor. The room itself was more of a grand hall, long and narrow with a table and high-backed chairs down the center.

The door behind them slid back into place to the sounds of muted machinery, taking with it the last splinter of outside light. Now it was easier to see the sentries lining the walls, their armor and insignia gleaming softly. There was a larger chair at the head of the table, flanked by more helmeted Galra, and the barely visible outline of who could only be Commander Navvik.

The Black Paladin strode forward without hesitation, letting his boots ring harshly on the floor. Pidge and Lance found themselves walking in the same rhythm, something comforting about it, knowing they were all moving together as one. They stopped when Shiro did, a few yards away from the throne-like chair.

“Commander Navvik, I presume?” Shiro started out intending to keep his insolent tone from earlier, but thought better of it and ended on a more polite note. No sense antagonizing their opponent needlessly.

“Lieutenant Taz.” The seated figure stood. He was an imposing height even among Galra, narrowed yellow eyes looking appraisingly over the trio. “The commander is busy at the moment and told me to handle this meeting. May I ask your names and terms of parley?”

The paladins were taken aback by the officer’s polite tone; clearly their ploy as terrorists was being taken seriously and the Galra were handling the situation with kid gloves.

Shiro nodded and gestured to each of the trio in turn. “I’m the Dread Pirate Roberts, Dread for short. This is the Sharpshooter, and --” He paused facing Pidge.

“I don’t need a name,” she interjected quickly, “because I’ve got _your_ name and all your information, so if you don’t want me deleting your credit account, you’ll treat us well.”

Taz blinked slowly at her. “I do not doubt your potential for danger, but I would like something to call you when I make my official report.”

“Oh. Okay. Um, my name’s Evergreen.” The other two stared at her curiously but she ignored them. “Put that in your official report.”

Nodding acknowledgement, the Galra turned his attention back to Shiro. “And may I ask your terms, Pirate Dread?”

“We want access to your ship’s prison records. Some of our people were captured a while ago, and we’d like to find out what happened to them. In return, we’ll let the mall go unharmed and we’ll leave you alone in the future.” Okay, so that last part wasn’t entirely true -- Voltron would no doubt have to fight Navvik some day -- but that would be outside of their pirate disguise so it wasn’t _technically_ breaking their word.

Lieutenant Taz hummed thoughtfully and tilted his head, crossing his arms. “I will have to ask Navvik for permission to let you access the ship’s computers. Can’t have you running loose through all our systems, you understand. But your demands don’t seem all that unreasonable... provided that the mall is in the kind of danger you’ve indicated. Because if you are all here, who is holding the civilians hostage any more?” His polite smile morphed into something far more deadly. “It would seem that _you_ are the hostages now.”

“Except _of course_ we’re not working alone. There is a whole guild under my command and, not to name names, even some of the shopkeepers are on my side. The mall is under far more threat than you seem to understand.”

Pidge stepped up to Shiro’s side and pulled the iPod from her pocket. “See this? It’s a detonator for a high-yield bomb I hid somewhere in the mall complex. You don’t want to see your tribute go up in smoke, do you?”

“Of course not,” Taz replied smoothly. “I merely wanted proof of your competence. It seems you came more prepared than most pirates we deal with.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know of us already!” The two other paladins turned to where Lance squared his shoulders, making the most of his impressive cloaked silhouette. “I mean, the Pirate Dread and his gang? We’re the ones behind all the unrest lately. Galra bases blown up? Shipping lines disrupted? Puppies kicked? That’s all us!”

Taz’s expression changed again, from shrewd calculation to barefaced awe. “All the trouble in this sector was _you_?!”

“This sector and more, pal.”

Taz stood up quickly and motioned for the nearest guards to approach. Shiro’s shoulders tensed and he drew one foot back in a defensive stance, but the sentries weren’t there to attack.

“See that our guests are kept comfortable,” the lieutenant instructed. “I need to inform our commander of this development.” He hurried from the room, still with a faintly starstruck look.

The sentry drones took up a loose formation around the trio, but their weapons remained powered down and they stood back far enough that the paladins could talk quietly among themselves without fear of eavesdropping.

“I... guess we made a good impression?” Pidge asked with a glance at the door Taz had disappeared through.

Shiro shrugged. “Just because we impressed the lieutenant doesn’t mean the commander will think the same. Although I’m guessing they’ve had a lot of trouble in this system, since that seemed to solidify our criminal record in their eyes.”

“You all can thank me later.”

“Only so long as this doesn’t wind up getting us killed,” Pidge scoffed.

The door opened again and admitted a furry Galra in commander’s armor. Taz trailed along behind.

“You are Dread? Pleased to meet you!” The commander came right up and held out a hand which Shiro tentatively grasped and then released. “I’m Navvik, as you might have guessed, and welcome aboard my ship!”

While Shiro went through the introductions again, Pidge and Lance shared an incredulous look behind his back. This was the feared commander that Piraq had mentioned? It was hard to imagine this guy keeping order on his own ship, much less governing a star sector with an iron hand. In fact, at the moment, he seemed more like a hotel manager than a military officer.

“Evergreen wants access to your ship’s records, mainly for prisoner data. Can we expect your cooperation?”

“Of course,” Navvik said. Pidge half expected him to start rubbing his hands together and asking them if they would like a room with a view. Instead his gaze fell nervously on the iPod still in her hand and she offered him a small smile.

“I’m the only one who knows the code for the bomb,” she said, returning it to her pocket and patting the hard lump. “So just keep me happy and no one gets hurt.”

He returned her smile far more nervously and looked to Shiro. “I’ll give you access to the ship’s computers on one condition. I can’t go letting anyone come aboard and hack in, you understand, so I’m just asking that you prove your title as pirates. I don’t want to get in trouble just because some petty crooks fooled me.”

“Of course. What do you need us to do, a demonstration?” Not good. This was a prison ship, what if Navvik wanted them to kill prisoners in cold blood?

“You could call it that. I think it is a task that will benefit us both, since the target is a threat to the Empire and pirates alike.”

“Sounds reasonable.” Nothing to do but play along, at this point. “What’s the mission?”

“Do you agree to it?”

“I won’t agree to anything sight-unseen.”

“If you don’t agree to it, then you’re just cowards not worthy of my time. I won’t deal with you any more.”

“Um,” Pidge spoke up, brandishing the iPod again. “Do I need to remind you to cooperate?”

“I’m risking my neck here.” Navvik spread his hands helplessly. “Treating with pirates is enough to get me demoted! I’m only asking for a comparable reward so I won’t lose my job.”

“ _Fine_.” Shiro rolled his eyes. Surely there would be some way to fake the mission, if it turned out to be something distinctly unpleasant.

Navvik practically shone with glee. “I knew you would be up to the job! After all your exploits in the sector, this mission should be a breeze. I want you to find Voltron.”

Lance’s laughter was incredulous and just a touch hysterical. The other two echoed the sentiment more discreetly, but Navvik was already staring at them.

“You believe this is a task to laugh at?” he asked. “Surely you know what Voltron is.”

“We’ve, ah, heard of it.” Shiro was amazed at how composed his voice was despite the utter insanity of his current position. “But as pirates we’re hardly equipped to take on the universe’s most powerful weapon.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Navvik said, waving a hand in dismissal. “You’re a smart enough group. Besides, you’ll do anything for the right motivation.”

That phrase was impending trouble for certain. “What kind of motivation?” Shiro asked slowly. This negotiation was getting out of hand too fast and he was gambling with all their lives.

“I won’t kill you, or arrest you, or even mention this incident on your permanent records. Additionally, I’ll let you all walk free off this ship -- if you can deliver. Till then... I’ll need some security.”

“Security.”

“Yes. Can’t have you slipping off this ship in the dead of night and disappearing.”

There was a sudden cold weight in Lance’s gut. “You mean security like, an armed escort or something?”

“I’ll be nice and let you choose which one gets to spend the night in a cell. That way if you pull anything tricky, there’ll be consequences.” Commander Navvik looked over his shoulder at Taz, who nodded agreement. “I think it’s standard procedure when dealing with criminals, after all.”

Well, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t been expecting trouble. The negotiations had gone too easily to be true. Shiro risked a glance at his teammates and caught their worried expressions. Best not to let the Galra know how nervous they were. If the paladins could handle this correctly, they might be able to pull it off after all.

“I think that’s a reasonable offer,” Shiro said through clenched teeth. “With us being dangerous individuals. Can we have a moment to talk among ourselves?”

Navvik motioned for the sentries to withdraw and he and Taz backed off to the other end of the long table, where they whispered back and forth, with unsettling glances and sharp smiles in the trio’s direction.

Lance laid a hand on both Shiro’s and Pidge’s shoulder and leaned in close. “I guess we can’t get out of this one?”

Shiro shook his head and closed his eyes, swallowing hard to fight the uneasiness boiling up inside him. There was no way he could stand back and let one of them be thrown into a cell -- he’d brought them here, it was his duty to make sure that this sort of thing never happened.

“I’ll... I’ll volunteer --” he started, but was cut off immediately by Pidge.

“It’s gotta be you or me, Lance. Flip a coin?”

Shiro shook Lance’s hand off his shoulder. “No, I’ll go.”

They both looked at him blankly.

“Shiro, you’re the best fighter we’ve got. You’re no good to us in a cell.” Lance looked up at him with worried eyes. “Besides, given what’s happened to you... before...” he trailed off but the meaning was clear. Just the thought of being recaptured sickened Shiro; he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he had a panic attack during a critical part of the mission.

“I’ll be nice and safe in a cell,” Lance continued, still trying to keep the conversation light. “Nothing can go wrong, and you two can bust me out if needed. I can’t get into trouble.”

Pidge pulled a small silver coin from one of her many pockets. “It’s more fair this way.”

“No no no. You’re needed to hack the database. This is the reason I tagged along in the first place!”

Her look told Lance that she was seeing straight through his act, that he was as scared as the rest of them at the prospect of a Galra prison, but he insisted on keeping up a devil-may-care smile.

Shiro touched Lance’s arm. “You’re sure about this?”

He nodded.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry, Lance. We’ll come for you as soon as we can.” Pidge’s voice was tight and she ducked her head quickly, surreptitiously wiping at the edges of her glasses.

“Well, hope you guys have fun.” Lance bit back the urge to say goodbye, or hug them, or act stupid and sentimental. It wasn’t like he was dying or something. Hopefully.

Shiro sighed heavily but didn’t say anything else. Instead he caught Navvik’s eye and waved him and Taz back over, the sentries closing in and flanking the two officers. “I guess we’re ready to do this.”


	5. Chapter 5

Despite Navvik’s promise that the “security” would be treated well, Lance had misgivings as he was led deeper into the bowels of the ship. They’d already passed the crew quarters and any guest rooms there might have been (assuming Galra had such things) and up ahead there was only a huge barred door and a whole squad of droids guarding it. There was nothing it could be if not the prison. Yay.

This was definitely not going according to plan.

“So, um, guys? I think there’s been a mistake,” Lance said, but was completely ignored by the sentries, who pushed at his shoulders to keep him moving when he slowed. “See, this is supposed to be more like house arrest than actual arrest, so maybe stop with the doom and gloom and freaking _prison_ atmosphere.”

The door slid open, metal bolts retracting into the walls with resounding thuds, revealing a dimly lit corridor beyond. It was lined with small doors with barred windows and there was the sound of dozens of people holding their breath, as if the door opening had triggered them all into fearful silence. Which, considering, probably wasn’t that far from the truth.

The guards ushered Lance down the hallway; he thought better of resisting -- what was there to gain besides bruises? -- and went along until they stopped at an arbitrary cell door.

“Strip,” one of the droids ordered while the other keyed the door open. Damp air wafted out at them causing Lance to wrinkle his nose at the musty smell.

“Do you guys not believe in spring cleaning?” he muttered, unclasping his cloak and letting it and all the extra belts fall to the floor. Underneath he was wearing his long-sleeved shirt and jeans, which he hoped they’d let him keep. He already didn’t have much; the last thing he wanted was to lose more of his very few belongings. Plus, under the cotton and flimsy material he was wearing his paladin undersuit just in case, and while a black jumpsuit wasn’t that recognizable, he didn’t want to have to answer any awkward questions.

Luckily the Galra let him keep his Earth clothes, although there was a moment of debate about his sneakers. But Lance managed to droop his shoulders and look rather like a wet rat, and they shoved him into the cell without bothering to search him any further.

“So... when’s dinner? he asked, voice drowned out by the grinding of the door being pushed shut. The snap of the lock echoed dimly in the small empty room. “Guys?”

The guards’ footsteps tramped away outside; when they reached the entrance and the main door opened there was a brief beam of light that illuminated the corridor and then it was sunk into blackness again. A purplish band along the top of the cell, just below the ceiling, provided some light, but it cast lifeless shadows and was painful for human eyes. Awesome, just awesome. The room was bare save for a tattered blanket thrown in one corner and a concrete wash basin in the other. Lance’s first instinct was to search the cell more carefully, maybe see if he could pry apart the doorframe and start hotwiring the locking mechanism, but he stopped and sagged back against the nearest wall.

For once, he wasn’t _supposed_ to try to escape. His whole purpose right now was to stay put and hopefully lull Commander Navvik into a sense of complacency regarding the pirates. He let his legs give out (how long had it been since his last meal? All the stress made it seem so much longer) and slid down to sit on the floor. The metal was cold and hard and he didn’t want to think of long it must have been since it was last cleaned.

What was happening to the others? It wasn’t like the Galra were terribly trustworthy, not in his opinion. Lance had to admit it was a smart move, keeping one of the “pirates” as collateral, but it wasn’t so great when he himself had to play the part of the captured damsel. Realistically, he knew that everyone would get by just fine without him. Pidge was a genius; Shiro was a one-man army. A sharpshooter would be an asset to the team, but not a necessity.

He curled himself into a ball and leaned back against the corner. Not ten minutes in here and his thoughts were already at his own throat. The claustrophobia didn’t bother him, the cold was merely an annoyance; hell, even the separation from his friends wasn’t all that bad since he was pretty sure they weren’t in any immediate danger. It was his own mind that kept tearing at him, trapped in this confined space with nowhere to go. Like being caged with a wolf.

Idly he wondered if it would be better to try to go to sleep. Exhaustion was going to set in eventually, and he would need to be at his best when they came for him. Lance just wasn’t sure which “they” would come first, Galra or Paladins. Could he even expect a rescue from his teammates? For the plan to work, he _needed_ to be in prison so Navvik would trust them. If the Paladins broke him out, their cover would be blown.

Yep, this was going to be a long however-long-it-would-be.

He let his head roll to the side and rest against the grimy wall.

What had he been thinking, volunteering himself for this mission? In the end he only had himself to blame, true, but was this really all he was good for -- to be a distraction, kept safely out of the way, while the rest of the team worked around him?

His mind really wasn’t the best company.

Partly to distract himself, partly out of boredom and restlessness, Lance thumped his forehead gently against the wall. At the very least they could have given him a book or something to do. Even his pockets were empty of distractions. He opened his eyes, still resting his head on the wall, and noticed a regular series of scratches at about head-height for a sitting person. Reaching out, he traced over them with his fingers, trusting his sense of touch more than his sight in the poor lighting. The scratches were in neat little rows and columns, grouped together in... a calendar?

Lance sat up on his knees and scooted over to get a better look at the marks. Neat tallies of five scratches counted up to twenty, thirty, fifty. Fifty-three, then they stopped abruptly in the middle of a tally. Maybe a prisoner was counting the days and then got interrupted? Lance didn’t like to think about the possibility of being stuck in these same four walls for that many days. How would someone even count the days in here, where they couldn’t see the sky?

His fingers trailed back up to the start of the scratches and brushed across the weathered metal above the tallies. More marks were there, catching just slightly on his skin. He leaned closer until his nose was almost pressed to the wall, trying to catch enough light to make out the edges of the marks. These weren’t tallies, they were letters, and as Lance rubbed off the grime with his cuff he realized they were _Earth_ letters.

T SHIROGANE 4.29.13

Wait. What?!

Lance spat on the wall and rubbed at it again, grimacing as the layers of dirt transferred from the wall to his shirt sleeve. But once he was done the letters stood out plainly, after over a year of being hidden here in the dark corner.

“Well isn’t this an interesting turn of events,” Lance muttered to no one in particular. It was kind of cool, in a dark way, knowing that he had the same living conditions as Shiro had suffered through upon capture. But unlike Shiro, Lance had the hope of imminent rescue and the knowledge that he wasn’t all alone out here. He eyed the fifty-three tick marks with an aching heart. That was a _long_ time to be stuck here in the dark. And after that, what had happened -- the arena? The druids?

Lance shuddered and backed himself into the corner until the cold walls pressed against his back and side. He’d stay right here, thank you very much, until the other Paladins showed up. He just wasn’t cut out for this hero business. Not when he’d seen firsthand what happened to heroes. Curling in tighter on himself, he tried to think of home until he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

About the time that Shiro, Pidge, and Lance were landing their shuttle and being escorted to meet the commander, Keith and Hunk arrived back at the castle. The Yellow Paladin had suggested hotwiring a ship from the mall’s parking lot, but after a brief discussion they decided that it would be safer in the long run (and less permanent on their record) to simply call a cab.

As musty and disheveled as their clothes looked, they hoped not to arouse too much suspicion when they asked the driver to drop them off in the middle of the wasteland several miles from the mall complex.

“You’re sure we can walk from here?” Hunk asked as the hovercraft turned around and left them on the side of the road. “It’s a ways back to the castle.”

“We can make it.” Keith took off the bandana from his face and tied it around his neck instead. “Ditch the mask and some of the armor if it’ll make you cooler. The Galra are going to be showing up any minute now and we need to let Allura know not to worry.”

He set off across the barren rock and drifting sand, Hunk trailing unhappily a few steps behind. They traveled for a bit in mostly silence until Hunk had to stop, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

“Can’t you just call Red out here to pick us up?”

Keith shook his head. “I’ve tried, but I don’t think it works like that. She’s not a trained dog that comes when I call.”

“So you’ve got to be in serious danger for her to show up. Okay. How about I hit you?”

That got a faint chuckle out of the Red Paladin. “We can try if it would make you feel better. Or you can find some shade and sit down while I go on ahead.”

Hunk looked around contemplatively. “That might be easiest. Sorry I’m slowing you down, I guess I’m just not able to keep up with Galra stamina!”

Resisting the urge to facepalm, Keith glanced out at the rocky spires midway between their current position and the horizon. The castle was hidden among those; instead of trying to cloak the whole thing, Pidge had set up a distortion field that colored the white walls red and dusty, so to the casual observer the towers were part of the landscape. He couldn’t see it from here but the paladin wristband he’d hidden under his sleeve indicated that it wasn’t far off.

“Keep heading for the tallest spire,” he instructed, showing Hunk the holographic map. “I’ll go on ahead and talk to Allura and come back for you in Red. You’ll be fine out here as long as you don’t push yourself.”

“Sounds good.” Hunk stripped off his armored pauldrons and the metal chestplate Coran had coerced him into. “I’ll be around here somewhere when you get back.”

Keith nodded and gave him a tentative thumbs-up, which Hunk laughingly returned, before setting off at a trot across the desert. Luckily the arid landscape wasn’t much of a problem for Keith; he’d acclimated well to life in the wasteland outside of the Garrison, and this wasn’t all that different. He did wish they’d been able to wait until closer to sundown to start their trek, but as long as they weren’t being followed the daylight shouldn’t matter other than the uncomfortable heat.

The castle was closer than he’d expected, as he rounded a red stone outcropping and came face to face with the too-smooth-to-be-natural wall of the giant ship. Even up close the disguise held, and it took him several minutes of searching and running his hand along the wall before he found an airlock door. He slipped inside and immediately took a deep lungful of the cool air. It felt good on his skin as he jogged along the corridor toward the central tower. Allura would probably still be on the bridge, waiting for word from the paladins.

Keith arrived on the bridge to find Allura and Coran discussing the Galra fleet that had wormholed in a while ago and was now circling the planet.

“I don’t understand what the sports shuttle has to do with anything,” Coran was saying, scrolling through the data on a computer console. “Why did it meet up with the cruiser?”

“That was Shiro and the others,” Keith interrupted.

They looked up at him in surprise. “What? Why?”

“Long story, but it’s part of the plan.”

“What plan?” Allura crossed her arms and cocked her head at Keith.

“One we came up with on the spur of the moment. Apparently Pidge’s family was held captive on that ship, so she and Lance and Shiro went up there to bargain with the commander in exchange for information. Like I said, it’s a long story. I can tell you more on the way to get Hunk.”

“Is Number Two alright?” Coran asked. He swept aside the hologram display and stepped down from the platform.

“He’s fine, unless you count dehydration as a serious threat. I promised I’d go back for him in Red. I’ll keep the comms open so we can talk.” Keith waited for Allura to step back, her posture relaxing, before he headed off the bridge. There was a lot going on at the moment, none of which she’d been consulted for, and he hoped she didn’t feel snubbed. He paused at the doorway. “Princess? Want to come with me?”

“I’ll man the bridge, don’t worry!” Coran called after them as Allura hurried to Keith’s side. “I don’t think the Galra are interested in us right now, so we shouldn’t be in any danger.”

“I’ll be careful,” Keith promised, heading for the zip line to Red’s hangar, Allura matching him stride for stride.

Finding and retrieving Hunk was no difficulty; the lion’s scanners showed no signs of Galra activity near the planet’s surface, but Keith took no chances anyway. He stayed in the shadows near the rocks and moved in short bursts, but even with all the added precautions he was back at the castle in a matter of minutes. On the way there and back he updated Allura on what had happened so far, from the iPod to the mall hijacking to the rendezvous with Navvik. Coran listened in on the comm system and gave small noises of thought or approval at key points.

Back at the castle, Keith and Allura left Hunk to enjoy a cold shower while they returned to the bridge.

“Has anything changed?” Allura asked as she resumed her position at the main control console.

“Nothing, princess. The Galra are still here but they’re dead in orbit. I picked up a radio broadcast from the mall, saying that they were freed for the time being, but no word from the other paladins yet.”

“They may not be able to contact us for a while,” Keith said. “Wouldn’t want to give away the castle’s position -- or their disguises -- in case the call was intercepted.”

“Still, it would make me feel better if we knew things were going well.” Allura scrolled through the console again, looking for data that could tell her more about the situation aboard the cruiser. She frowned and heaved a sigh. “Nothing to do now but wait, I suppose.”

“And be ready for battle at a moment’s notice, if things go south.”

“I don’t understand what south has to do with it, but yes, we do need to be on constant alert. Once Hunk is back in armor, you should probably take the opportunity to freshen up. We might be here for a long time.”

As a matter of fact, the four of them -- plus the mice -- camped out on the castle’s bridge for the rest of the afternoon and well into the night before any of the consoles changed. Hunk finally stood up around sunset and went to make dinner. He returned a few minutes later laden with trays and bowls of food goo.

“You call this cooking?” Keith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t in the mood for it,” Hunk answered. He sat down on the floor and pulled a tray into his lap. The Alteans sat crosslegged next to him and Coran passed around the bowls and utensils.

“I thought you cook when you’re stressed.”

“I _bake_. There’s a difference. Besides, it just doesn’t feel right to make a meal for so few people now.” He picked at his food, poking at the goo with his spoon and swirling it around the bowl. “I hope they’re okay up there. I hope the Galra remember to feed them.”

Keith stretched out and nudged Hunk’s knee with his foot. “I’m sure they’re fine. I mean, we’re all paladins, but those three are really good at taking care of themselves. They’ll be back in no time, hopefully with Pidge’s family in tow.”

“Keith is right,” Allura piped up. “I’ve known you all long enough to know that you’re very good at surviving and thinking your way out of problems.”

“But you’re worried about them too, right?”

“Of course, but no more than I usually am. You five go into battle all the time and I worry about you, but you always make it out. I have faith.”

Hunk looked a little happier about the conversation, although it still took him much longer to finish his food than the other three. When they were all done, he collected the dishes and promised he’d be back quickly with blankets and sleepover supplies.

They got settled in for a long night of waiting on the bridge, draped in blankets and making themselves as comfortable as they could while still wearing full battle gear. It was hard to stay awake, the events of the day wearing especially on the two paladins, and Hunk sat up abruptly and rubbed his eyes.

“We need a coffee maker on board,” he muttered, throwing off his blanket and standing up. “I thought I was done with all-nighters when I ditched the Garrison.”

“We could do some road trip games,” Allura suggested, sitting up as well.

“There’s actually a subcategory of games designed just for sleepovers. We could play truth or dare.”

“What kind of dares?” Keith asked. He pulled his knees up toward his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“...probably not as dangerous as you’re thinking.” Hunk eyed him somewhat warily. Keith looked put out.

“But dangerous games are the best!” Coran piped up. “They get your blood pumping and your adrenaline flowing!”

Hunk wrapped his blanket over his shoulders and pulled part of it up into a hood, withdrawing like a turtle. “I understand you and the princess not knowing Earth games, but Keith? You might as well be an alien too for all your knowledge of human culture.”

Keith shrugged. “I’m sure I know _some_ games that we could try --”

He was interrupted by a shrill beep from one of the consoles, and Hunk and Allura nearly tripped over themselves rushing to push the button. The comm screen folded down, larger than life, showing Shiro’s tired face.

“Hey, guys,” he said, stepping back from the screen to sit down on a bed just below their line of sight. “Keith and Hunk make it back okay?”

“We’re right here.” The two stepped into view, crowding in next to the princess. Shiro’s gaze flitted over them and his expression relaxed; the stress lines were still heavy around his eyes but he managed a faint smile.

“That’s good. Everything’s going pretty well over here, too -- Navvik seems gullible to just about anything and he’s been good on his word so far, letting Pidge access the database without restriction.”

“And this channel? Is there a fear of being intercepted?”

“Not a chance, Princess.” Pidge’s face popped into view at the very edge of the screen. “This has every firewall and encryption I could manage. The problem is that this is the only terminal I could hack, so we’ll only be able to talk from this room.”

“Where are you, exactly?” Hunk asked, craning his neck as if that would give him a better view.

“Navvik’s so-called luxury guest quarters. Also known as a cell with a bed and a network connection,” Shiro answered, back to frowning. “We’re not in any danger for the time being, though, so I guess I should be grateful.”

Allura raised her hand. “Just to be clear, the castle isn’t currently in top condition. If you’re going to need us to mount a rescue operation, it’ll have to be in the Red and Yellow lions. Unless one of you brought the crystals back with you?” She turned to Hunk and Keith, who shrunk in on themselves, Hunk withdrawing into his blanket hood.

“Oops.”

Shiro rubbed at his forehead. “It’s my fault. I got so caught up in dealing with Piraq and the Galra that I totally forgot. I’m sorry.”

“What’s done is done,” Allura said gently. “Maybe Coran and I can make a quick run to the mall tomorrow.”

In the corner of the screen, Pidge’s face turned suddenly sheepish. “That may not be necessary.” She held up her hand, where a crystal and bead necklace was looped through her fingers. “I guess I forgot to take this out of my pocket...?”

Coran leaned closer to the screen and peered at it through squinted eyes. “That should work perfectly! And now you can add petty theft to your list of accomplishments.” Pidge looked unhappy. “All we need is to get that trinket back onto the castle and wire it up, and the particle barrier should be good as new! Or, well, as good as it can be after ten thousand years.”

Nodding absently, Hunk glanced around again, at what little of the guest quarters was visible behind Shiro, which wasn’t much more than a blank corner with the bed shoved into it. “And what about Lance? Can I talk to him real quick?”

Shiro froze and his face fell, taking Hunk’s heart down to his boots. The Yellow Paladin hesitated a moment before asking quietly, “He is okay, right?”

Pidge shoved at Shiro’s shoulder until he scooted over and she could rotate the camera to face her more directly. “Lance is okay as far as we know. Navvik said he needed collateral to make sure that we keep up our end of the bargain, and Lance volunteered himself. Right now he’s... probably in a cell somewhere.”

“Oh.” Hunk’s reply sounded lost.

There was a long moment of silent consideration, during which the connection started to go staticky.

“It’s the ship’s computer trying to track us,” Pidge explained in a subdued voice, pulling back from the screen to fetch her laptop. “I can stay ahead of it for short periods of time, but if there’s anything else that needs to be said, do it now before I have to reset the channel.”

Shiro visibly shook himself and leaned back into the frame, looking down at Pidge’s computer. “How long will that download take?”

She shrugged. “Hard to say right now, but definitely overnight. Probably into tomorrow, too.”

“How much of their database are you taking?” Keith asked.

“ _All_ of it.”

Hunk huffed. “Nice.”

“The thing is, Navvik was already getting anxious this afternoon when we weren’t able to find Voltron for him right off,” Shiro said. “If this is going to take too much longer, we’re going to need to buy ourselves more time so we don’t all end up in the brig.”

“And there’s the chance that they’re sabotaging the shuttle as we speak,” Pidge said darkly. Her eyes had visible bags under them, now that she’d removed the colored glasses. “I mean, if they think we’re big shot pirates, why would they keep their word and let us go back to our piracy?”

“So why don’t you just capture Voltron?” Everyone turned to stare at Allura. “It will solidify your reputation and give Pidge enough time to finish hacking what’s needed.”

There were looks of utter confusion all around until Keith’s expression turned into a dangerous grin. “Capturing the Red Lion would really boost your credentials, don’t you think?”

Now everyone shifted to staring at him. Finally Pidge’s eyes lit up and she practically bounced off the bed in excitement. “That’s brilliant! That way we’ll have you here if it comes to fighting, and we can use Red as an escape route if the shuttle’s been trashed.”

Keith nodded eagerly. “Not that I’m looking forward to being taken prisoner by the Galra, but if it’ll help you guys out... Plus it’ll put me closer to the fight where I need to be. I can’t say I feel useful here on the castle.”

“I mean, I guess?” Shiro looked unconvinced. “There’s a lot of risks in this plan.”

“As if this whole thing wasn’t one risk after another, from the beginning?” Pidge said.

“We’ll need a lot of time to plan it properly. When and where you’ll attack, the terms of your apparent surrender --”

“Not necessarily,” Keith cut Shiro off. “Just so long as you don’t damage Red, it should be fine. If the battle is too scripted it’ll look fake. I just need to know when you want me to appear.”

“Some time in the morning. We need to stretch our time on board here as much as we can, and there is a chance Navvik will take the Lion straight to Zarkon once he captures you. We’ll need to have as much ready to go as we can.”

“Sounds good.” Pidge looked up from where she’d gone back to pecking at her laptop. “At current speeds this should be done in about ten hours, so that should be just enough time for you to pretend to surrender then come and bust us all out of here.”

Shiro met eyes with Allura. “Is all this okay with you?”

“It’s dangerous, but then again, what have we done that _hasn’t_ been dangerous. Just remember that the castle is still mostly defenseless, so it will be up to these two,” she inclined her head to indicate Keith and Hunk, “to back you up if needed.”

Static filled the display for a moment, clearing to reveal Pidge mumbling “heck” heatedly over and over as she tried to keep the connection from burning out.

“I’ll be looking for you in the morning then,” Shiro said. He still looked less than happy with dragging more of the team into danger, but something needed to be done and not all risks could be avoided or shouldered by him alone. “Sleep well.”

“Same,” the castle crew echoed. Pidge gave a little wave, then the comm screen faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Shiro stayed staring at the comm unit long after the connection had broken. Beside him, Pidge was still typing away until she registered his stillness and nudged him.

“You okay?”

“I’m just... thinking about all the people I have to worry about now. How are they treating Lance? Is Keith going to be okay? Are you and I going to make it out of here?” He spread his hands. “It’s hard to keep track of everyone when we’re spread out like this.”

“Hey, remember the plan to build the giant teleduv? Keith and Hunk were literally inside a star beast, Allura was on the Balmera, and Lance and you and I were breaking into a Galra prison. Talk about a dangerous plan! But we pulled that one off pretty well, in my opinion.”

“Yes, but.” He stopped and looked down at where his hands were clenched tightly. “Lance is in _prison_.”

“Only for one night. He’ll be fine.” Pidge flopped backwards onto the bed and closed her eyes. “Did you ever hear about the time he bluffed his way out of detention?”

Shiro turned and swung his legs up onto the hard mattress, leaning back on his elbows next to Pidge. “I don’t think I have.”

“Okay, well -- within our first week at the Garrison, Hunk was still so airsick from the plane ride in that he was holed up permanently in his bunk. Lance snuck down to the kitchens one night to get him some goodies, and ended up getting caught red-handed by one of the senior cook staff. They dragged him to see Hedrick, who was in such a bad mood he was ready to expel Lance on the spot.” Pidge snuggled down under the threadbare blanket and pulled her laptop with her into the warm cocoon.

Beside her, Shiro stayed on top of the blanket, but at least his posture was more relaxed than before. “I’ve been on Hedrick’s bad side myself, a few times. How did Lance survive?”

“He pretended he couldn’t speak a word of English. But the awesome part is that instead of just talking in Spanish and bluffing his way out _that_ way -- which would have been easy -- he somehow ended up playing deaf. But Lance doesn’t know sign language so, according to him, he was just waving his hands around and hoping Hedrick would let him off the hook. While the officers were calling up someone who could interpret, Lance snuck out the back door and high-tailed it back to hide in Hunk’s dorm for the rest of the day.

“And the best part is that he still had his pockets full of snacks, so we had a completely illegal feast that night after curfew. So, yeah. I guess my point is that if anyone can bluff their way in, out, and around any situation -- leave it to Lance. He’s better at surviving than he gets credit for.”

“Hm, I’ll have to remember that,” Shiro said in a sleepy voice after a long pause.

Pidge poked her head out of the blanket to see that his eyes were half closed and he looked almost comfortable. The lights in the room had dimmed automatically as the evening wore on; the purple shadows looked like bruises that shifted in the gloom. Outside, the footsteps of sentries clanked back and forth, back and forth, but other than a brief watchful flicker of eyes toward the door, Shiro didn’t seem to mind.

Pidge scooted backward until her back made contact with Shiro’s side, sharing warmth and whatever sense of security they had. Tilting her laptop sideways so she could read the screen while lying on her side, she started another download for good measure -- something about new weapons development, from what little Galran she could read and understand. At the very least it would give her and Hunk something to puzzle over for the next several days.

The lights dimmed even further until the only illumination in the room was from the half-covered laptop. Shiro’s breathing had evened out into faint snores broken by bouts of restlessness whenever the guards passed by outside. Pidge stayed awake as long as she could, fingers never losing their dexterity as she typed away on her computer, hacking deeper and deeper into the Galra network as the long dark hours drew on.


	6. Chapter 6

“It'll be an easy trap,” Shiro said, trying to keep his patience as the Galra officers around him on the bridge whispered among themselves. “There's literally no risk in it for you. If we betray you, you have a gigantic cruiser that will blow us out of the sky. If we try to run, you still have our friend captive. What's there to lose?”

Navvik hemmed and hawed and turned to take the datapad Lieutenant Taz was offering him. “I'm just not sure if the tractor beam has the kind of power you think it does. Dragging in a ship from space takes energy, you know.”

“Believe me, I've seen it in action enough times. If it can lift a ship off the surface of a planet, it can snag something out of space.”

“When has a cruiser ever picked up a ship from a planet?”

Shiro groaned and glanced down at Pidge; they made eye contact long enough to exchange exasperated shrugs before the facade of politeness was back in place. “Just trust me. Evergreen here can boost your power output, and between that and a sneak attack, you should be able to capture the lion no problem.”

“I'm not coming with you?” Pidge tilted her head up at him. Around her, the Galra towered twice her height and she narrowed her eyes at them. “I mean, I don't mind staying, but --”

“I'm sure you'll find something to keep you occupied here,” Shiro answered. At the very least, she could spend the time downloading more of the database, because they could use all the intel they could get.

Navvik still looked not entirely convinced, but Taz nodded affirmatively. “We can have your shuttle ready to fly at a moment's notice. I'm just not sure why you think Voltron is going to come to your aid. It's not like it appears every time some civilian has engine trouble.”

“No, but it did happen once. Besides, I have it on good authority that the lions are in the area. It's worth a try to bait them in.” Shiro looked to the commander. “There's a lot here for you to gain.”

“Very well,” Navvik said. He handed the datapad back to Taz, who hurried away to converse with others of the bridge crew. “But if nothing shows up in the next several vargas, I'm calling your bluff and you'll have to think of something else to get results.”

“Understood.”

Shiro touched Pidge's shoulder as he followed a pair of sentries off the bridge. She fell into step beside him momentarily, long enough to share a few words of encouragement. Even though she didn't have her bayard, she wasn't afraid -- or at least was good at not showing it.

“Just be careful,” Shiro admonished her before they parted ways at the bridge doors. “It's better to play it safe, for the time being.”

“I won't get caught. Now you'd better go, and try not to let Keith beat you up too badly.”

Shiro gave a laugh that died on his lips and the doors ground shut behind him.

 

* * *

 

Once in space, Shiro took up a position midway between the mall planet and a small asteroidal moon. The luxury shuttle wasn't as hard to singlehandedly control as he'd feared; it took a bit of adjusting and cursing inertial drift, but eventually it was parked in a stable orbit. The Galra cruiser slipped out of sight behind the moon, dousing its running lights and disappearing against the black background of space.

It wasn't that complicated of a trap, honestly, and Shiro was surprised that they'd never come across something like this before. The Galra seemed to prefer more direct conflict but this method was more likely to gain results -- although Keith would be playing along and not fighting back as hard as he could.

Clearing his throat, Shiro flipped on the comm system. “This is the Viper, calling all ships. Mayday, mayday. Request assistance.” It felt stupid, talking to himself (and the Galra, whom he knew were listening in); more so since the shuttle was in perfect shape and any cursory scan would reveal that. Last night, Pidge had offered to manually short out an engine, but they'd agreed that would be bad in case they needed to use the ship as an escape route.

Shiro sent out the call again. How long would Keith make him wait? It wouldn't be good if he arrived too quickly, looking like he was just waiting for the call, but Navvik had only allowed a couple of vargas' time. Making him wait, testing his patience, wasn't advisable.

Shiro wondered if Navvik knew just how over a barrel he had them. Of course, it was majorly the paladins' fault, for willingly walking themselves into a trap, and there was a very great chance of something going sideways. Keith and Hunk couldn't rescue the trio now if they tried, not with two of them being held ransom. Nor could Shiro afford to _not_ produce results, since that would make this whole venture useless and, again, potentially deadly.

So here he was, an upstanding paladin of the universe, masquerading as a space pirate, pretending to be a helpless civilian, all so he could lure in another paladin. If that didn't put Navvik's mind in a tailspin, nothing would.

It took another few minutes before the speaker crackled with static. At first there was a moment of silence and Shiro thought maybe the commander was recalling him early, but then Keith's voice rang out.

“This is the Red Paladin of Voltron, how can I help?”

Trying his best to keep the faint smile from his voice, Shiro keyed on the comm. “Glad to hear from you, Paladin. One of my engines is busted and I'm stuck in orbit. Think you could help me down?”

“Hold on one min-- _dobash_. I'll be right there.” Keith's tone was brusque, and Shiro wasn't sure if it was because he disapproved of the mission or if he was trying to be brief so his lack of acting skills wasn't apparent. He rather suspected the latter.

That gave Shiro enough time to find the lion on the scanner when it emerged from the far side of the mall planet. The current trajectory would keep the shuttle between Keith and the Galra, which was less than optimal for capture. The last thing they needed was for Shiro to get injured in the ambush, treated as collateral. He nosed the ship toward the moon, waited until Keith was close enough to announce visual contact, then gunned it.

“Sorry, my engine malfunction is worse than I'd thought!” That _had_ to be the cheesiest line ever, to someone who knew spacecraft.

“Don't worry,” Keith replied, pulling Red smoothly alongside. “I'll get you fixed up in no time.”

Shiro shook his head. _I take that back, this whole situation has got to be the cheesiest conversation ever. Hopefully the Galra will show up before we have to improvise much more._

Keith cut the thrusters on his lion and coasted to a slow stop along with Shiro. How could they make it apparent they were waiting, without making Navvik suspicious that Keith was playing along? They traded a few more bantering lines, both swearing mentally, before the Galra cruiser abruptly shot out from behind the moon.

“Look out!” Keith called, out of habit, as he wheeled his lion to face the threat.

Shiro bit his lip and waited, drifting in place. It took the cruiser only a few seconds at full power to be almost on top of them, but Keith was faster, getting off a few shots in nonvital locations on the hull. The tractor beam swept out, a glowing stream of light, and locked onto Red. Keith cut the comms so he wouldn't have to pretend to call for help, and concentrated on struggling against the beam. Apparently Pidge's modifications had turned the weapon into something much more deadly than before, as the lion was dragged relentlessly upward.

There was a moment right before the containment doors opened where it looked like Keith would break free, but the lion powered down at the last moment and curled in on itself as the doors closed around it. Shiro waited until it was completely out of sight before returning to the bay. What was done was done, for better or worse.

Navvik met him in the landing bay, flanked by sentries who stepped forward as soon as Shiro's feet touched the floor.

“Impressive.” The commander seemed genuinely pleased, blinking slowly as he gave a fanged smile. “I owe you a lot, Pirate Dread. It's not every day someone captures a paladin! And a lion!”

“Of course,” Shiro replied. Navvik was so shallow it should have been easy to spot any malice behind his words, but the bland smile gave nothing away. “All part of our deal, right?”

“Yes, yes.” Navvik's attention was already wandering elsewhere, focus off of Shiro as the commander headed for the bay doors. Shiro followed at a respectful distance and considered his options. One, he could meet up with Pidge and see about the possibility of freeing Keith and Lance, and the four of them could try to fight their way out. Option two was just as dangerous, but in a different way -- they could sit tight and hope Navvik was true to his word and would let them leave... and they'd have to find a way to rescue Keith. Assuming, of course, that Pidge had finished with the downloads she needed.

Shiro had thought that Navvik was heading back to the bridge, possibly to collect Pidge and then talk through their agreement again, but instead the Galra turned aside and entered a large elevator. Hesitating, Shiro stepped inside at the last moment, behind the commander and the two sentries.

Navvik leaned against the wall, arms crossed loosely over his middle, and regarded Shiro with acute yellow eyes. “This is one fight I don't want to miss out on.”

“Huh?”

“Lieutenant Taz is having trouble finalizing the paladin's capture. I would like to be there to see the fruits of my labors -- wouldn't you?”

Would Shiro like to be there to see Keith taken down and shackled, all while having to force an air of indifference? Shiro didn't know if his acting skills were up to it.

The elevator doors slid open at that moment, revealing the deactivated Red Lion crouched in the middle of the holding area. Her shields were down and Galra swarmed around; they were mainly concentrated on top of her head, working with cutting torches to open the concealed panel there. It was impossible to see anything of the cockpit's interior through the dull gold eyes, but Shiro lifted his head and made eye contact anyway, hoping to somehow give Keith a signal that this was all right. The lion would be breached one way or another, and the less damage done, the better.

The panel was abruptly thrown back, knocking at least one droid off Red's head, and then Keith was a lightning-strike of fury flashing through the gathered sentries. His bayard swung in a deadly arc, a melody of graceful moves and vicious blows and parries, his skill meshing with his enemies' in a perfect dance. In any other battle, Shiro would have shouted encouragement, except... it was quickly becoming apparent that the Galra were losing.

Sentries were falling in broken pieces, innards shorting out in showers of sparks, and there weren't enough reinforcements in the bay to replace them. Keith leapt from the top of his lion down to stand on a forepaw, hurling several Galra down with him; while he used his jetpack to break the fall, the sentries were not so lucky and landed in a shattered heap, leaving the area around Keith momentarily clear.

Shiro's breath caught in his throat. Was this a test of some sort, a trap to make sure he wasn't on Voltron's side? Was he supposed to go up there and fight Keith, subdue him, and watch in triumph as he was chained and led away? Sliding a sideways glance at Navvik -- and Taz, who had appeared at his commander's side -- Shiro tried to estimate their expectations.

Navvik, surprisingly, didn't seem all that scared by Keith's show of force, instead more interested in a small silver rifle Taz was holding. Keeping one eye on Keith, Shiro leaned forward to get a better look at the weapon. Taz loaded a small feathered dart into the chamber and suddenly it made sense -- this had been a test for Keith, a chance for Navvik to flaunt his superiority. _Of course_ the commander would want to get the final blow so he could claim full credit.

Shiro's gaze shifted back to where Keith was still standing on Red's forepaw, brandishing his sword at the few cautiously-approaching Galra who remained. Shiro wished there was a way to warn Keith to jump down and protect himself from the fall, but even as he instinctively stepped forward, Navvik took the slim gun and raised it to his shoulder. The faint click of the trigger almost didn't register in Shiro's ears as he watched Keith stagger, clutch at his neck in slow motion, and fall to his knees. The bayard clattered to the ground yards below where it was retrieved by a guard, but -- thankfully -- Keith himself had enough balance left that he crumpled on his side safely on top of the lion's paw.

Shiro swallowed down his mixed emotions (this was a success, right?) and looked at the jubilant Navvik with hard eyes. The commander tossed the dart gun back to Taz and turned to Shiro, rubbing his hands together.

“And that's a deal well done. I didn't think you had it in you, Dread.”

“There's more to me than meets the eye,” Shiro replied dryly, less to boast and more to quell any thoughts Navvik might entertain of betraying them. Because with Keith and Lance captured and Pidge outnumbered on the bridge, this situation was suddenly poised on the edge of a knife.

Clearly Navvik felt the same way -- and had realized the potential for danger much earlier -- because scarcely had the thought crossed Shiro's mind before he felt the guards' presence looming closer on both sides.

“It's no small feat to take out a paladin...” Navvik was saying, but Shiro tuned him out. Now was the time to fight, his body falling naturally into a defensive stance, right hand raised. But the sentries didn't attack and his attention flickered back to the commander.

“Resist, and your friends will suffer.”

Shiro bit back the growl bubbling in his throat. So they _were_ betrayed; why had he allowed himself to think it could turn out otherwise?

To his left, the sentry held out a pair of glowing handcuffs.

“You think I'm just going to surrender?”

“Whatever you do to my soldiers, I'll do to your friends. So go ahead, chop them up if you like. Kill them. I'm not stopping you.” Both Navvik and Taz were watching him now like twin vultures, predatory gleams in their eyes. He had underestimated them both so badly, let their pretended naivety lull him into this. Whatever happened, it was no one's fault but his own.

Lips twisting into a snarl, Shiro reached out and snatched the cuffs from the Galra. Of all the things he'd prayed never to go through again... here he was intentionally clipping his own wrists into the metal bands.

It took an effort of will to not look at the two Galra officers as he was led away. Shiro was certain that if he did, if he saw their pointed grins and confident eyes, he wouldn't be able to hold back from attacking them. They had planned this out perfectly and Shiro had blindly walked the path they gave him. _Damn_ it, how could he have been so stupid?!

It was a small comfort that, as the guards marched him back to the elevator and headed down into the depths of the ship, the elevator stopped on the bridge floor. The doors slid open and Pidge -- handcuffed, sullen, glasses-less -- was ushered aboard by another set of sentries.

“At least we're in this together,” she muttered, scowling.

Shiro gave her a weak grin, but right now, at a glance, it was hard to tell her from Matt, and being surrounded by Galra, and the fear of the unknown --

“Hey, um... Evergreen?” The rest of what he was going to say died on his tongue; he wasn't even sure why he'd drawn her attention. “We'll be okay.”

“If you say so.” She looked stolidly ahead at the closed doors and the counter slowly ticking down. “I'm sorry you have such awful luck with me and my family.”

Ah, so he wasn't the only one seeing the similarities here. Shiro wasn't sure if that was more or less comforting. At least if something happened now (if he broke now), Pidge would know which demons to blame.

The elevator stopped with a jolt and as they filed out, the gloomy atmosphere was almost tangible. Shiro didn't know how -- the dim violet lights, the metal architecture, was the same all through the ship -- but it was painfully clear that this was the brig. The rows of small barred doors wavered with the effects of a concussion as he was dragged past... no. Not here, not now. Not now.

Pidge gave a squeak and he stepped back from where he was crowded close enough to tread on her feet. She gave him a worried look but there wasn't time for words as the guards pulled back the bolts on the huge double doors and they were prodded along into the gloom.

Pidge gave a squeak and he stepped back from where he was crowded close enough to step on her feet. She gave him a worried look but there wasn't time for words as the guards pulled back the bolts on the huge double doors and they were prodded along into the gloom. Gritting his teeth, Shiro stepped forward with her. As bad as this might be, he refused to let her face it alone. He needed to be aware of his surroundings, even as every sound, every scent, every _atom_ of the place tore at his skin like claws.

They were stopped midway down the hall in front of a locked door. Eyes glinted in the darkness of the surrounding cells; creatures of all shapes were watching them, waiting in anticipation of blood. Shiro swallowed his growing hatred and strained his arms against the cuffs, but they had been specially made to hold his weaponized arm and there was no chance of escape.

The door was opened only wide enough for the two paladins to slip through sideways, then it was pulled shut behind them and the locking mechanism clanged into place. Pidge jumped at the echoing sound but Shiro didn't startle; they were back in the cell, they were safe now. Locked in was better than being out in the arena.

“Hey, guys. Party time?” Lance waved at them from a barely visible corner.

Pidge made an unhappy noise and crossed the two strides of floor space to sink down next to Lance. “This sucks.”

Shiro took a seat -- awkwardly, with his hands bound behind him -- against the wall nearest the door. Leaning his head against the grimy metal wall, he closed his eyes and tried to think of a way out of this. They weren't stuck here forever, he kept reminding himself, even as all his fractured memories kept whispering to him that he'd been here before, done this before, failed before.

Across from him, Pidge was filling in Lance on the details of Keith's plan and their capture. “It started out so well and I guess we all underestimated Navvik. Now I just...” Pidge shrugged and touched the bridge of her nose, trying to push up glasses that weren't there any more. “I dunno. I'll think of something. At the very least the virus is uploaded so if we can get back to the castle, this place'll be defenseless.”

“Galra go boom,” Lance said softly. He shifted, pulling one leg under him to sit on. “I hate to ask, but is Keith okay?”

Shiro pressed his forehead harder into the cell wall. “I honestly don't know.” It was easier to focus on his own needs for once, to keep from panicking about everyone else he'd dragged into this mess. “Navvik wants to keep him as a trophy or something, so I don't think he'll be hurt. They sedated him instead of using brute force to bring him down. We've just got to get everyone out of here before Navvik decides to make a run to Zarkon's central command.”

“That virus you mentioned, what does it do?” Lance asked after a moment of silence.

“Once activated, it'll start bleeding the power reserves from all the ship's primary systems. The engine will go down, followed by guns and shields and life support. The Galra will be dead in the water in a couple of hours. The only problem is, someone has to be on board to activate it, since I didn't have time to set up a remote control like I'd wanted.”

“Is there any danger for whoever turns it on?” Shiro sat upright. “That might be our key out of here, if we can get to the bays before the doors are shut down.”

“No danger except for pissed off Galra. And, well, lack of life support, but that should be the last thing to go. There'd be time to evacuate if Navvik wanted to save his crew.”

The cell descended back into silence. Outside, the guards marched past on heavy feet, the rhythm like a slow heartbeat; Shiro nodded his head imperceptibly in time with it. Lance leaned against Pidge, sapping her body heat as she sat with arms crossed in a frowning huddle.

“I found something here in the cell,” he said at last, barely loud enough for Pidge to hear. “I'm worried about Shiro.”

The girl looked up at him and chewed her lower lip. “That makes two of us.”

“We need to do _something._ This place is driving me bonkers and I've only been here for one night.”

“Yeah, last night in the so-called guest quarters, he didn't sleep well. The sooner we get out the better.”

“So... any ideas from that big brain of yours?”

“Hush, I'm thinking.” Her honey-brown eyes focused on the vibrant glow of Shiro's restraints. The Galra had recognized his arm as a threat -- though they hadn't recognized him as the Champion? -- and had taken measures. But Shiro hadn't fought back and there was no danger of him attacking his cellmates. So why bother with the cuffs, unless his hand could serve another purpose?

Pidge's teeth gleamed with violet highlights as her face twisted into a Halloween smile.

“Pretty sure I just found our ticket out of here. And it's all thanks to Keith's furry purple mother, bless her heart wherever she is.”

 

* * *

 

The next time the guards passed on patrol outside, Pidge scrambled to her feet and stood on tiptoes to see out through the small window. Shiro looked up at her in surprise and made a move as if to pull her away, but he'd forgotten his hands were tied and ended up struggling to his feet behind her.

“Stay back,” she hissed, expression fiercely triumphant. “I'm pretty sure I've got this.”

Shiro didn't press the issue; he stayed where he was, watching her with concern heavy in his eyes. Pidge was a paladin like the rest of them. It was only right to give her the same respect he would show to any of the others... despite how his heart told him to protect her at all costs (because that had gone _so well_ with the rest of her family).

“Hey! Hey!” The sentries ignored her shouts, probably used to it in this place. Pidge kicked the door, then hopped for a moment on one foot in pain. “I've got important stuff to tell Navvik!”

The footsteps passed the cell and echoed off down the hallway.

“Aw, come on. Don't you want to know that I'm a Paladin of Voltron?”

The footsteps stopped abruptly, then backtracked to right outside the door. “Say what?”

Pidge leaned forward conspiratorially, the top of her head barely reaching the bottom of the window. “I’m a paladin. The green one. I need to talk to your commander.”

There was a moment of quiet discussion outside as the two guards conferred. Pidge clasped her hands behind her back, crossing the fingers of both hands. Across the cell, Lance looked apprehensive but grinned and gave a thumbs-up anyway.

“Stand back from the door,” one of the guards ordered at last. He waited until Pidge had complied before inching the door ajar. “Come on out. Pirates, stay put.”

Pidge moved slowly, taking care not to present a threat, as she was ushered out to where the second guard was waiting with a pair of handcuffs. Shiro took a helpless step forward to follow, but the heavy door closed in his face, blocking out the momentary glimpse of Pidge’s triumphant look. Whatever was going to happen was now in her hands.

Outside the cell, the guards prodded her along with the muzzles of their guns -- apparently they were more afraid of her as a paladin than as a pirate. But she was careful to not give them any trouble as they led her out of the cell block and to the nearest comm station. The screen flickered on, showing a yawning subordinate officer rerouting calls.

“Is Commander Navvik there? Tell him we’ve got a paladin!”

Pidge tapped her foot as the officer went wide-eyed and left his seat, giving them a blank view of a corner of the bridge. Heavy footsteps rushed over and Navvik, eyes alight, slid into the open seat. His grin died somewhat at Pidge’s unimpressed expression, and he stared harder at her.

“Evergreen, huh. Not much to look at, as paladins go. At least the other one was flashy.”

She snorted. “I’m not here to compete with Keith in that department.”

“So you know his name. Is that supposed to convince me you’re one of the Voltron gang?”

“I don’t care what you think I am. The important thing is that I needed to get out of that cell.”

Navvik laughed, lips curled into a sneer. “Of course you want to get out; you’re a prisoner. But after this call you’re going right back in. So better say what you want to say.”

“If you put me back in there, the other two will kill me.” She paused for dramatic effect. “See, as a paladin, it’s my job to take down pirates like them. I’d intended to infiltrate their ranks and take down the whole cartel, but they made their move too soon, and then you showed up, so...” She shrugged and spread her hands as much as she could in the cuffs. “I want to stay alive, you want me to stay alive -- so find me a different cell, where the inmates won’t automatically want to kill a do-gooder like me.”

Navvik frowned. “Why should I believe anything you say when you’re a self-avowed liar?”

“Because if I’m lying and I actually _am_ a pirate, then the Red Paladin will take care of me himself. And it’ll be one less thing for you to worry about.”

Pidge held her breath and watched as conflicting thoughts raced across Navvik’s face. Seriously though, how had they ever underestimated him so badly? Looking at him now, she halfway expected him to break into full-on supervillain cackling. And he had the _brains_ to back himself up, whether it was his own or Lieutenant Taz’s. Either way, this plan had to be absolutely foolproof.

“I’m too busy for this right now,” the commander snapped at last, standing up so the camera showed a good view of his chest armor. “Throw her in a cell with the other paladin. If he kills her, it’s what she deserves.” He turned his head, looking at someone offscreen. “And you, keep scanning the planet! I know the other lions have to be down there somewhere.”

The comm cut off and the tip of one guard’s gun was back to digging into Pidge’s shoulderblade. “Start walking.”

She tried not to let there be too much spring in her step, but it was hard. Yes this was a bad situation, yes there was still a lot of danger and uncertainty, but so far so good. The guards took her down a different hallway, this one shorter and better lit but no less grimy than the other. There were fewer cells but most were occupied, judging from the engaged locking mechanism on each one.

“Prison overcrowded?” It had to be, otherwise there’d be no reason for putting her in with Keith.

“Shut up.”

One sentry pushed his way ahead to the door at the end of the hall and pressed his palm against the lock. Pidge watched with keen interest as the handprint flashed from red to purple and the door started to swing inward. Everything was dark inside, though whether from contrast or lack of lighting, it was hard to tell. Stepping forward, Pidge paused on the doorstep and turned to the guards.

“Cuffs off, please.”

Grumbling, they complied, and the air of menace from inside the cell dissipated. At least now Keith knew it was her and wouldn’t snap her neck by mistake. She stepped inside before the guards could push her in, and stopped as the door immediately closed and the tiny room was plunged into darkness.

“Hey, Keith. Do you have time to talk about our lord and savior, Commander Navvik? And are you interested in screwing him over and getting the hell out of here?”

A low chuckle came from behind the door and Keith stepped out from his ambush into the square of light from the window. “I’m all ears.”


	7. Chapter 7

Pidge and Keith had withdrawn to the far wall of the small cell, quietly waiting as the guards double-checked the lock and then left to resume their patrol in the main brig.

“How often do they stop by in here?” Pidge asked.

Keith shrugged. “I haven’t really been timing it, but it’s not too often.”

“Long enough for us to break out and hack a console or two?”

The Red Paladin leaned back against the corner and crossed his arms. “Are you going to tell me what this plan of yours is, or just keep hinting at it and make me guess?”

“It’s pretty straightforward, really. You can operate Galra tech, so getting out of this cell will be a breeze --”

“Already thought of it. But we’re both unarmed and wouldn’t get far.”

Pidge blinked in frustration then picked up again, “As I was _saying_ , we get out of this cell and I head straight to the terminal that I saw back in the hallway. I uploaded a virus that should shut down the entire ship, so all I’ve got to do is activate it. That way, even if they throw us back in the cell, once the virus is fully operational all the cells will deactivate anyway. We pick up Shiro and Lance from the main prison and head to wherever you parked Red and get out of here.”

“Sounds simple.” Keith stepped up to the door and peered out. Snaking his arm through the bars on the door, he was just able to touch the edge of the scanner pad that would unlock the cell. “Ugh. Gimme a boost?”

Pidge gave him an _oh please_ look.

“I’m not as heavy as I look. I just need a few more inches.”

Grumbling, the Green Paladin came over and laced her fingers together. “Fine, get it over with.”

Keith put one foot in her hands and hauled himself up with a hand on the bars. It was just enough for the palm of his hand to slam against the pad for a moment, and there was a mechanical sound of tumblers disengaging. He blinked at the sliver of light that grew as the door swung ajar.

“That was... easier than I expected.”

Pidge dusted off her hands on her shorts. “It’s like the Galra don’t even consider the fact that other people can use their technology.”

“Well _technically_ I’m Ga--”

“We need to move. Time constraints.” She darted out of the cell and down the short hallway to the now-empty guard room. Keith stared after her for a split second, trying to decide how to take her interruption, and shrugged it off.

He entered the room warily, looking around for anything to use as a makeshift weapon. There was a hard plastic chair -- currently occupied by Pidge -- bolted to the floor in front of a large holographic display; there were other computer terminals built into the walls, and a small table littered with food wrappers and half-written reports of some kind. Nothing loose or sturdy enough.

Pidge made an unhappy noise and her typing speed doubled briefly before her hands went slack on the keyboard. “I take everything back. This sucks.”

Keith’s eyes flickered cursorily over the scrolling glyphs. “Problems with the virus?”

“This console is locked to just this part of the ship. I uploaded my program to the mainframe.”

“So even if you could upload it again here, it would only affect the prison?”

“Yeah. Which obviously would only result in us being recaptured. We need a way to shut down everything simultaneously.”

He leaned over the back of her chair, resting a forearm on Pidge’s shoulder as he inspected the console more closely. There were a lot of buttons, some of which he could read thanks to the Castle’s translation programs, but overall it was meaningless. Off to the side was another handprint-shaped scanner -- clearly everything entered into the computer would need to be verified by a Galra officer, and Keith was willing to bet that the mainframe was set up the same way. Without her laptop to help her hack the authorization codes, Pidge would need alien DNA to activate her virus.

“Let’s head up to the bridge and activate it from there. The mainframe would be accessible from there, right?”

Pidge whipped her head around so fast they were nose to nose before he could blink. “Excuse me?”

Standing upright, Keith shrugged. “Seems like the easiest way. I mean, we’ve snuck around ships undetected before.”

“Yes, but --”

Distantly there was the sound of heavy doors opening and closing. The guards were back on patrol from the prison already? The two paladins shared a wide-eyed look; Pidge glanced at her nonexistent wristwatch.

Keith, tension showing in every line of his body, leaned out of the doorway. “Do we try to fight them?”

“No.” Pidge hesitated beside him and touched his elbow. “Hide here and sneak out behind them. You can find the virus in one of the sub-menus on the main screen. The password’s Gunther.”

“Pidge, wait! We need to...” Keith trailed off as she darted away from his side and back toward the open cell. At the opposite end of the hallway, the doors opened and Keith caught a glimpse of the sentries’ visor lights before he jerked back into the safety of the guardroom.

 _So much for a plan_. The thought flitted through his mind in the brief moment before the hallway outside erupted into chaos. Yelling, the guards charged in as Pidge took up a battle stance. They passed by the door and Keith threw himself out behind them, running for the open doors they’d just come through. Although he told himself not to look back, he did anyway, just to make sure Pidge was okay, and caught a glimpse of her racing back into the cell and slamming the door in the sentries’ faces.

Well at least that would keep them occupied for a while, because if the guards were too scared to open the door to check on the number of prisoners, they might never realize one was missing. Pidge added to the confusion by shouting insults at the Galra, and just generally causing enough noise that Keith could have left with fanfare and trumpets and not been noticed.

Once out in the corridors it was a lot quieter and he had to walk softly so he could listen for any approaching patrols. Getting to the bridge ought to be easy; even though he’d been knocked out for the trip from the hangar to the prison cell, all Galra cruisers were laid out the same. If he’d broken into one ship, he’d broken into them all. Now the hard part would be avoiding any wandering crewmembers and sentries, and then. And then, somehow, the bridge.

He didn’t want to think about how much was riding on his success, because he knew how well guarded the bridge would surely be, and he only had the Marmora knife to his name. Luckily it had been well hidden inside his armor and his captors had missed it, but it was also the single easiest way to make himself a target, and potentially blow the Blade’s cover. Better come up with an alternative, and quick.

The sounds of approaching footsteps drove him down a narrow access corridor that ended in a closed bulkhead. Figuring it couldn’t be worse than recapture, Keith heaved it open just wide enough to slip through, and found himself in a poorly-lit stairwell. It hadn’t been used in some time, judging from the general disrepair, making it the perfect way to travel between floors unseen.

He waited until the sound of footsteps had passed without faltering; only then did he allow himself to breathe easier and start to climb. It wasn’t too hard to find which landing exited onto the bridge because the door was bigger and there were a few signs of use, recent footprints in the dust. Pressing his ear to the metal, he could hear the dull murmur of voices and an array of electronic beeps and clicks.

Keith bit his lip. Up until now he’d been so focused on _getting_ here that he hadn’t really had time to formulate a plan. He couldn’t very well charge onto the bridge and expect to survive long enough to activate the virus. He also couldn’t activate it while all eyes were on him; whether Pidge had built in a killswitch or not, they’d still find a way to shut it off. Ideally he needed a diversion, and although Pidge had mentioned the possibility of one during their hurried conversation in the cell, he didn’t want to let too much hinge on the off-chance of perfect timing.

Holding his breath, he listened carefully and could hear the sound of someone barking commands. Too bad he hadn’t had time to ask what the commander looked like, but hopefully he could adapt his budding plan to any circumstance. Assuming, of course, he wasn’t simply shot on sight.

Keith squared his shoulders and pulled his spine straight -- he wouldn’t look tall, not compared to most Galra, but it would give him an air of confidence that _hopefully_ would carry him far enough to implement stage two. Leaning all his weight into it, he shoved the door open and stepped through into a darkened corner of the bridge.

Most of the computer consoles and desks were oriented with their backs to him as they faced the giant starfield at the front of the ship. At the back, there was a pudgy, furry Galra in full armor standing next to the command chair; beside him was a tall and thin officer, leaning over his shoulder and pointing at a datapad. One or the other of them was bound to be the guy in charge around here.

“Hello there, commander,” Keith said, stepping forward. He put enough emphasis on the rank that it came across as an insult instead of subservience. Both Galra, as well as a fair number of the bridge crew, whipped around to face him. “May I ask which one of you was the _great warrior_ who took me down with a dart gun from a safe distance?”

The furry one’s ears flattened back minutely, but it was the taller who stepped forward. “Commander Navvik saw no need to engage in a fair fight, paladin. There was no guarantee that you didn’t have any tricks too.”

“That so?” Keith sidestepped enough to get a good look at Navvik again. “Admit it, it was because you don’t really know how to fight.”

The commander snarled at him but Taz remained stolidly blocking them both from launching at each other’s throats. Grinding his teeth, Keith took the moment to think over his options. At first it had seemed like a good idea to simply anger Navvik -- make him mad enough and all his actions would become predictable and easy to avoid. Now, though, another option was presenting itself, one that wouldn’t necessarily involve an all-out fight.

“Commander, I thought our kind was supposed to have more honor than that,” Keith said, shrugging. It took effort to relax his shoulders and turn away from Taz, but the bluff seemed to work. The two shared a surprised glance before Navvik edged his way around the lieutenant.

“ _Our_ kind?”

Keith blinked slowly. “How do you think I was able to get out of my cell? I’m Galra, like you. ...Partly.”

Taz’s hand, that had been surreptitiously reaching for the gun at his belt, dropped to his side in surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m in the service of the Empire, a spy sent to infiltrate Voltron from the inside. I’m surprised you weren’t aware of that, although it would explain your less than exemplary treatment of me.”

“Well _excuse_ you,” Navvik sniffed. “Captain Why-didn’t-I-get-a-royal-welcome.”

Keith feigned a sneer, although inside he was doing his best not to laugh. This was going much easier than expected, at least as far as Navvik was concerned. The lieutenant might be a different story though, judging from his silence and narrowed eyes.

“How in the stars did you infiltrate Voltron of all things?” Taz asked. “And why did you break cover now?”

“There are some things that I can’t disclose,” Keith replied primly. He really, really hoped that no one would try to call up Central Command and verify his story with the records office. “But as for breaking cover, I didn’t. I played the part of a paladin right up to getting captured and thrown in a cell. But since there’s no one to know what I do while I’m on board, I might as well breathe fresh air.”

Navvik stayed staring at him for longer than was strictly comfortable. “And if you’re here, you might as well be useful.”

Leveling a flat stare, Keith tried to think of a quick way out.

“I’m terribly behind on paperwork, so there’s no record of your capture as of yet. I could always say that you were killed trying to resist.” Navvik smiled cruelly. “So if you want to earn your keep, I’ll give you the same bargain that I gave the pirates... which was still far more than they deserved.”

Nothing to do but play along, at this point. There were still too many soldiers on the bridge to attempt a more forceful approach, so Keith had to keep up the impression of being weaponless and amiable. If the bargain with the pirates was what had ended in Red’s capture, then this probably wasn’t going in too good of a direction --

“So you’re a trusted member of Voltron. I want you to convince one of your fellow paladins to come pay us a visit. I don’t care how you do it, just make sure that they come and turn themselves in with minimal damage to my ship and crew.”

Oh yes.

This was bad.

Keith gave up on keeping the facade of pleasantries; it was taking too much of his attention away from the situation developing right in front of him. “I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not very good at acting.”

More importantly, there was a definite lack of available paladins who could answer the call, given that the commander unknowingly had three more locked up. And Hunk couldn’t well leave the Castle unguarded when its defenses were already down.

“You’ll just have to think of something.”

Frowning, he fought back the urge to snarl. Reacting wouldn’t solve anything, and would more than likely make this worse. Was there any way that he could send a coded message to Hunk that this was a trap?

Or maybe that wouldn’t be necessary, if only he could activate the virus in time. That way by the time Hunk got here, the cruiser would already be in the process of shutting down and they’d all be ready to pack up and get the hell out. But at the moment there was no way to get to the main console unsupervised, which shot the odds of activating Pidge’s virus to absolute zero.

Unless there was some way to spring a diversion, the success of this plan wasn’t looking good...

 

* * *

 

Hunk, Allura, and Coran had made the bridge their temporary living quarters for the past many hours. The other paladins’ absence made the Castle feel too large and empty and they’d all trailed up here, one by one, for lack of companionship.

“I know they’re all undercover and all,” Hunk said, polishing his helmet for the third time, “but would it be so hard for them to send a quick message saying they’re okay? Pidge managed to get a signal through once before.”

Sitting on the steps beside him, Allura shrugged. “There’s no telling. Maybe we should go back to the mall ourselves to get the parts, so we can be ready to rescue them if needed. Because right now, even if they needed help, we couldn’t do anything. A single shot would kill us.”

Coran was standing by the main console, scanning the computer systems and pushing buttons sporadically. “That might not be a bad idea. Princess, you would have to stay here just in case you needed to move the Castle, but Hunk and I could --”

All three of them startled badly as a shrill chirp sounded through the speakers.

“The comms?” Allura said, leaping to her feet, Hunk right behind her. Coran couldn’t bring up the screen fast enough, the large holographic display rippling into existence. It showed a purple-lit section of a Galra bridge, complete with officers milling in the background and Navvik smirking suspiciously.

But what caught their attention first was Keith standing in the foreground, dressed in his red armor.

“Hey, Keith,” Hunk began enthusiastically but his voice trailed off as he caught the slight narrowing of eyes Keith directed at Navvik. “You doing okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Keith replied, and never had a smile looked so forced. “Matter of fact, Commander Navvik here was just inviting all the Paladins to come and talk with him. Diplomatic stuff and whatever. It would be better if there were more of us here to, um, make sure the discussions are fair.”

Allura was glaring at the screen like it had personally affronted her. “I was not aware of any diplomatic talks --”

“That sounds wonderful!” Coran cut her off in a too-loud voice. “Unfortunately most of our paladins are very busy elsewhere. Do you want us to send someone over anyway?”

Keith’s eyebrows drew down in a momentary frown. “Yes, Navvik is being very firm about that. We wouldn’t want Voltron getting a bad deal because I’m bad at negotiating.”

Hunk stepped offscreen and motioned for Allura to join him. “Is it just me or is he acting really strange?”

“This whole situation is strange.”

“Yes, but he seems adamant about getting someone over there. Think he needs help and he’s having to disguise it as diplomacy so he doesn’t tip Navvik off?”

The princess threw up her hands in exasperation. “There’s no telling at this point. Maybe he needs help; maybe it’s a trap. _I don’t know_.”

Hunk gave her an unhappy look before plastering on a wide smile and stepping back to the console. “Hey, Keith. I might be able to work out my schedule and, uh, come by for a bit?”

The Red Paladin nodded. “That’ll work. It shouldn’t be long. You can go ahead and join us now if you want, the sooner the better.”

“Sounds good.” Hunk’s eyes flickered to Navvik’s silhouette in the background and then back to Keith’s expression. He wished there was some way to ask, but anything he said or did was being projected for the entire Galra bridge to see. Any signal would have to come from Keith, who was doing his best to keep a stony face at the moment. Great.

“Is this the sort of negotiation where weapons are allowed?” Might as well ask up front, it wasn’t like things were going anywhere on the subtlety front.

“No. No weapons. See you in a bit.” Keith turned away from the screen and there was a brief moment when he shot Navvik a definitely undiplomatic expression before the comm shut off.

Coran started to chuckle but quickly turned the sound into a cough. “I think it’s safe to say that something’s going on over there.”

“But he did ask for backup,” Hunk said, shifting uneasily. “I trust Keith. Maybe the whole diplomacy thing is made up, but there’s no way he would trick us into a bad situation. Right?”

“I suppose not.” Allura brought up a long-range scan showing the cruiser still parked in orbit near the moon. “Although if you are going over there, I’d suggest that you expect the worst. There might be extenuating circumstances and if there’s the _slightest_ chance that Keith was lying, we can’t afford to lose you too. You’re the last paladin free right now, and without you, the Castle will be utterly defenseless.”

“I’ll go with you!” Coran piped up. “Never know when unarmed combat skills will come in handy, eh? Plus if it turns out to actually be peaceful talks, then I can help with that, too.”

Hunk looked to Allura for confirmation. “You’ll be fine here by yourself”?

“As fine as I can be. Pidge’s camouflage shield should hold for many more vargas, so as long as you’re careful not to be traced, the Castle can stay hidden. I don’t want to leave it entirely unattended though, so I won’t be able to get to the mall for spare parts...”

“Pidge still has some crystals with her, so when we get back we’ll be able to have this place up and flying in a jiffy.”

“It’s just getting Pidge and everyone back to the Castle that has me worried,” Hunk said.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Coran snapped his mustache and headed for the exit to Yellow’s bay. “You coming, Number Two?”

 

* * *

 

Shiro shifted uncomfortably for the umpteenth time. The metal wall was uncomfortable against his back, and the chill of the floor was seeping into his legs and leaving his muscles numb and cramping. Across from him, Lance stretched his arms overhead and unintentionally flaunted the fact that his hands weren’t bound behind his back and growing more stiff by the moment.

“Pidge should have gotten to Keith by now, right?” Shiro asked, even though he knew that Lance didn’t have any more answers than he did. “Assuming she was taken there right away and nothing went wrong.”

Lance stood up and shuffled over to look out the barred window. “Probably. It all depends on how much time she needs to explain everything to Keith.”

“There’s no guarantee the sentries will even fall for our ploy.” Shiro stood up behind him. “There’s even smaller chance that they’ll take us seriously enough to alert the bridge or do anything other than gun us down. They had some kind of tranquilizer they used on Keith.”

“Nothing to do but try, right? And if even one of us can evade capture, that should throw these guys into enough of an uproar to disrupt something vital.”

Outside, the regular footsteps of the patrol sounded closer and closer.

“You’ve got the iPod?”

Lance held up a hand, where the chrome case glinted softly.

“That’s Pidge’s only link to her family. Please be careful.”

The Blue Paladin turned to face Shiro, expression tight. “I know. I promise.” He glanced back out the door. “Well, time to see if they’ll fall for the same trick twice.”

Both guards, used to such disruptions, kept walking as Lance kicked the door.

“I think you forgot something!” he shouted after them. “Even Navvik said we were better pirates than he gave us credit for, remember?”

They were almost out of earshot now, the steady tramp of their footsteps muffled by the prison atmosphere.

“We’ve still got the detonator!” Shiro shouted. “We’ll let the mall burn!”

There was a moment of silence during which Lance rested his head against the door. “Their attitude almost makes me wish we had a real detonator.”

Reluctant footsteps came closer and stopped outside. “Hand it over.”

“Nope.”

“There’s nothing you can gain from this. We’ll get it from you one way or another. The commander left orders not to listen to any more of your demands.”

“If you want it, come and get it!”

The door abruptly opened, revealing the pair of sentries in the doorway -- even though their faces were obscured by their helmets, it was easy to tell from their body language that they were both hoping for this shift to be over without further incident.

“Just hand it over,” one of them said. “We’ll give you extra rations and a blanket. Unless you just want to get hurt.”

“Well...” Lance pulled back as if thinking. Beside him, Shiro braced his shoulders and leaned his weight forward onto one foot. “How about not.”

Shiro charged, using his momentum to knock one guard into the far wall of the corridor. Lance ducked under the uncoordinated swing of the other and suckerpunched his chin, causing the sentry to stumble back and trip over the sprawled legs of the other.

“Keys,” Shiro barked, but Lance was already snapping the keyring off a belt and motioned him to spin around. On the second try, the key clicked into place and the cuffs fell off just as the first guard was staggering to his feet. Shiro aimed a blow at his chest that knocked him flat again, then both paladins were racing down the corridor. Killing the guards wasn’t on the agenda, especially since mentioning that Navvik was prone to random executions, but causing havoc was. Someone would be needed alive to raise the alarm.

They pushed their way through the giant double doors at the end of the hallway and were back in the intersection between the elevator and a small unoccupied guard room off to the side. Shiro headed for the computers in the guard room, arm already activated.

Lance looked around for a moment before spotting an alarm system built into the wall. At first glance he dismissed it, not wanting to alert the ship that there were prisoners on the loose, but at second look there was a symbol above it that looked like a stylized flame. A fire alarm? Might as well try.

Pulling on the lever, he stepped back just in case it had something to do with actual fire, but instead a wailing siren started overhead. Despite the heavy walls, he could swear he heard the echo of it throughout the whole ship. Well that was _exactly_ what they were looking for. He grinned to himself and went to go join Shiro in smashing computers.

Unfortunately, more than the one alarm had been sounded and reinforcements arrived just as the last terminal fell to the floor in a pile of sparking wreckage. The glow faded from Shiro’s arm as the door burst open and half a dozen Galra poured through. There was no real sense in fighting back, not when in the back of Shiro’s mind hovered the threat _whatever you do to my soldiers, I’ll do to your friends._

Lance lashed out with his fists and yelped when his blows connected with unforgiving armor, skinning his knuckles. Kicking out, he managed to trip one of the guards, but then an armored fist slammed into the side of his head and his vision went double. Somewhere beside him, Shiro shouted and charged forward. Lance tried to stay on his feet and act as backup but everything was wavering. A punch to the gut made him sag to his knees with a groan, and it wasn’t long before Shiro joined him on the floor, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the guards dragging on his arms.

One of the sentries put a knee into Lance’s back, crushing him harder against the floor. Clawed fingers found the iPod in his back pocket and pulled it out, tossing it aside.

“No!” Lance shouted, squirming in their grip.

Shiro surged forward, trying to shake off the sentries clinging to his shoulders, but they pulled him back and stopped him with a sharp uppercut. One of the guards, whether out of malice or chance, stepped directly on the iPod with a tiny crunch. Lance sagged against his captors, suddenly aware of how pointless further struggle was. His hands hurt, his legs hurt where they’d been kicked, and there wasn’t any way to avoid going back to the cell in the end. At least Shiro wasn’t completely aware of their recapture, eyes still unfocused from the blow to his head.

Lance’s gaze stayed stuck on the shattered pieces of glass and metal that the guards were trampling underfoot as they dragged Shiro from the room. Even though it hadn’t been his tie to Earth per se, it had still been a small piece of home, and for Pidge... His vision went blurry. A sentry roughly yanked his arms behind his back and cuffed them in place, then shoved him forward following the guards that had taken Shiro.

 _It’ll be worth it if we all get out alive_ , he kept telling himself over and over. Even so, he didn’t want to be there when Pidge asked where the iPod was.

Back in the cell, Lance put his back to the wall and slid down to a sitting position. His arms were already starting to ache from the rough treatment and the tight cuffs, and the hopeless outlook wasn’t helping his mood any. By chance he’d sat right next to the faded tallies on the wall, and as Shiro sank to his knees with a quiet groan, Lance shifted over to cover them. Things were looking bleak enough already; he didn’t want Shiro to accidentally be reminded of how much worse it could get.

Lance put his head against the wall and let the chill soothe his headache. He didn’t really need to be thinking of the tally marks either -- it was too real of an alternative, a grim prospect of days after days here in the dark.

“You okay?”

He startled at the hoarse sound of Shiro’s voice.

“Yeah. I mean, physically, yeah,” Lance answered.

“Same.”

Lance sat up straighter and tried to have the air of a cool and collected paladin instead of a scared teenager. Fake it till you make it, right?

Shiro hauled himself up to his feet and crossed the cell to sit down next to Lance. The Blue Paladin scooted over a few inches, just enough to keep his body blocking the marks from sight.

“Wanting company?” He leaned over until their shoulders were touching. “It’ll be fine, you know. Keith and Pidge are really smart.”

“I know,” Shiro said, leaning back. His warmth was comforting against Lance’s side. “Also...” He paused and glanced away. “You don’t have to hide it. I know, and I’m... okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“At least I’ve got company this time around.” Shiro bowed his head and let his eyes fall mostly shut.

Lance shifted to get more comfortable, as much as he could be with his hands sandwiched between himself and the wall. “It’s not your fault. Not this time, and not last time.”

A faint rumble of a short-lived chuckle. “How would you know? You weren’t there.”

“I know you. I know how you tend to take the blame for everything. And this time especially, I did this to myself. Always wanting to prove I’m worthy of being on the team. But hey, at least I’m valuable as collateral, it seems.”

“You’re not a seventh wheel.”

Lance froze. Shiro had heard that comment, so many weeks ago? He’d known, all this time?

“You’re a good team member and a good friend. I’m... not glad that we’re here, but I’m glad that you’re with me, if that makes sense.”

“Ha.” Lance tilted his head sideways to rest against Shiro’s shoulder. “Thanks. And I’m glad you’re here, too.” He stretched out his legs and let them flop limply to the floor. “So now we just sit meekly and wait for rescue?”

“Something like that.”

The silence stretched between them but it was a familiar kind, comfortable, and Lance found his eyes slowly drifting closed despite himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Keith blinked dumbly at the console. Behind him, Navvik was still yelling at his subordinates to get the fire alarms under control but enough of the bridge crew had returned to alertness so accessing the computer again was out of the question. Sure, Pidge had mentioned that the virus would start shutting down the ship gradually, but it would have been nice to get some confirmation that the program was even running at all!

Instead there had only been a brief flash of English words on the screen, scrolling too fast to read, then the computer had gone back to its ordinary functioning. Presumably that was so that none of the crew would notice -- which they hadn’t, luckily; too distracted by the commotion in the prison section -- but still. He wouldn’t get a second shot at this.

Feeling eyes on him, he whipped around to see Lieutenant Taz regarding him evenly, several yards away at a different console. Keith glared at him but the officer only gave him a neutral stare and went back to typing. Had he seen? Had he sabotaged the virus before it could fully activate?

At the very least Navvik was none the wiser, as he paced back and forth by the door.

“Commander, the Yellow Lion is on our scanners,” a Galra called out. Navvik left off haranguing the sentries and hurried over to the console.

“Wonderful. Seems you can act after all, paladin.”

Keith debated whether it was worth arguing that he wasn’t a paladin, but that disguise seemed to have worn itself thin fairly quickly. The less attention on his shifting loyalties, the less apparent all the holes in his story would be.

“Now that I’ve proved myself, I assume I can have better quarters than the brig?”

The commander gave some instructions to the crewmember whose station he was overseeing before heading toward Keith. “I don’t think so. Not until we get some kind of proof that you’re actually an Imperial agent. I mean, you could just as easily be one of those pirates from earlier, here to stir up a fight between us and Voltron.”

“I would have nothing to gain from that,” Keith started to protest, even though it was pretty clear that Navvik’s mind was made up.

“I need to make it supremely clear who is in charge of this sector. I won’t stand for pirates or Voltron or upstarts like you trying to take credit. Even if _you_ aren’t a paladin, the yellow one is for sure, and that’s more than any other commander can claim!”

Keith took a step back and the edge of the console pressed into the small of his back. The bridge was too well manned for a fight, and if he ran for the doors, he’d just get lost in the maze of corridors. Even if he managed to find Red, there wasn’t much he could do to help the others in captivity.

“I’m not trying to take credit.” Maybe he could talk this guy down? While Navvik did have a point, there had to be some way to make him see reason. “I’ve done my duty to the Empire; can I just go now?”

Navvik spread his hands helplessly. “I sympathize, but you have to see my point, too. You came in here flying a lion and wearing armor, so it’ll look better for me if I turn you in. That way, if you’re telling the truth, Central Command will let you go immediately, but if you’re not...”

“Fine.” Keith snorted. “Do I get any perks for going quietly?”

“Do whatever makes you feel better. You’re going back to the brig all the same.”

Keith decked him.

As the sentries hauled him off the brig, still struggling and dealing as much damage as he could, Keith saw Taz heading to the central console where he’d activated the virus. Pidge had said it was irreversible, right? All they could do now was wait, and hope.

 

* * *

 

Hunk tapped his thumb against Yellow’s control stick as he flew the course the Galra had given him. Straight into the main bay. Straight into the mouth of the beast.

Leaning over the back of the chair, Coran patted him on the shoulder. The unexpected touch made Hunk jerk, the lion weaving off-course before he pulled it back.

“Loosen up, you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks, Coran, but it’s not my flying I’m worried about right now. I mean, why was Keith so worried? Where were Lance and Pidge? And Shiro? _Why_ are we turning over another lion into Galra hands?”

“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” Coran said, straightening up and cracking his back. “There’s always the chance we’re waaay overthinking this.”

“Yeah, because Galra wanting to be diplomatic and friendly happens all the time.”

One of the sensors beeped and the comm system in Hunk’s helmet let out a huge burst of static.

“What was that?” Coran leaned closer to inspect the lefthand computer screens for a moment. “Some kind of huge data burst. Encrypted, apparently.”

Hunk glanced away from the controls briefly. “Any chance to hack it?”

Coran chuckled. “Do you want me to take the controls so you can have a look at it?”

“Nah, Pidge is the hacker. I mean, I can do it, but we don’t really have time for that.” Outside, the dark shape of the cruiser loomed closer, blotting out the stars. “Prepare for landing.”

The giant doors slid open and revealed the cavern of the landing bay. Red was crouched off to one side, eyes dormant. The Yellow Lion slipped through the shield that separated the interior of the ship from the vacuum of space and coasted to a slow stop next to the other lion.

“I guess this is where we get off.”

Coran headed for the back of the cockpit. “I assume you have your bayard?”

“Of course.” Hunk reached down and let the weight of the weapon materialize into his hand. “I was really kinda hoping we wouldn’t need it.”

“Never hurts to be prepared. Reminds me of my days as a soldier; never went anywhere without my trusty sidearm --”

“Thanks for the memories, but I think they’re expecting us.” Hunk gestured out at where a squad of sentries was approaching and taking up defensive positions, the front row kneeling with their guns aimed while the second row stayed standing. “And they’re not looking terribly friendly.”

“Then it’s time to go make a good first impression.”

Hunk trailed after Coran down to where Yellow was keeping her jaws firmly shut.

“Ready?” the paladin asked.

At a nod from Coran, Hunk stepped forward and the lion opened her mouth, extending a ramp down to the floor of the bay. The two hung back, sheltered behind the jut of Yellow’s teeth and lower jaw, as there was a rustle of movement from the sentries.

“Somehow I’m thinking we shouldn’t go out there,” Hunk muttered. Coran peeked out and withdrew quickly to crouch behind a tooth.

“I’m inclined to agree.”

“Any sign of Keith?”

The Red Lion looked completely desolate; even the sentries were keeping their distance, and there was no sign of her paladin.

“Hang on a tick,” Coran said, flipping open a pocket computer. He squinted at the tiny screen. “Keith’s signal is coming from much farther inside the ship. Several decks below us, at least. The others’ signals are close to his.”

“At least they’re all in the same place. Makes a rescue easier.”

“Assuming that’s what this is.”

A blast of gunfire came from the crouching Galra and splintered into sparks against Yellow’s armor. Some of the sentries crept closer, working their way into flanking positions on either side of the lion’s head.

“ _Definitely_ not friendly!” Hunk shouted. His bayard appeared in a flash of light and he let loose a stream of fire, not bothering to aim. Dodging back into cover, he looked up at Coran who was still manipulating his scanner device. “Thoughts?”

Coran ducked just in time as a bright violet laser flew overhead. “They’re coming at us from all sides. Maybe bring out the big guns?”

Hunk hefted his two-handed gun. “Bigger than this-- oh. Oh.” He scrambled deeper into the lion’s mouth, hurrying through the hatch into the cockpit. Coran followed, shaking his fist at the Galra.

There was a moment when Yellow’s eyes blazed alight, when the sentries broke their formations and ran for cover, but it was too short warning for them. It took only two shots to clear the bay entirely, and one more for good measure before Hunk relinquished the controls. Red’s shield had activated automatically and saved her from damage, but the rest of the area was full of smoking craters and small spits of flame. Somewhere, distantly, a fire alarm was blaring.

“That was... easier than I thought,” Hunk said, standing up from the pilot’s chair.

A deep rumble cut off the end of his sentence as the Galra cruiser shuddered underfoot. After a moment there was a sharper blast, much closer, that threw the two against the side consoles.

“Aw, come on!”

Coran glanced at his scanner again. “We need to get moving. Whatever’s going on, it will be a good distraction while we find the other paladins.”

As they exited the lion, picking their way around the wreckage they’d inflicted, Hunk activated his own wrist computer. “Looks like Lance and Shiro are in a slightly different location than Keith and Pidge, judging from the signals. We can split up; I’m going after Lance.”

“Meet back here in twenty dobashes if you can. Good luck.”

 

* * *

 

Lance perked up from where he’d been slumping in the corner of the cell. He’d almost been bored enough to start scratching his own tally marks into the wall, honestly, if not for the cuffs biting into his wrists. Against his shoulder, Shiro was awake but not seeming particularly talkative. As much as Lance wanted company, he was able to respect the silence.

Just as he was getting reconciled to the prospect of no dinner and probably no breakfast either, there was the sound of distant footsteps. So faint that he wouldn’t have heard them if his head hadn’t been pressed against the wall, and definitely not belonging to the guards.

Instead of a regular beat, these steps were more furtive, getting closer and closer until there was an explosion of gunfire at the end of the hallway. Both occupants of the cell bolted upright at the noise, and it took Lance a moment before a huge grin spread across his face.

“Hunk!” he shouted, scrambling to the door and pressing his face against the bars. “Hey, buddy!”

More gunshots, silence, then an answering yell. “Lance?”

“In here!”

Hunk’s yellow helmet was a welcome sight as he rounded the corner and followed Lance’s voice to the cell door. “Boy am I glad to see you guys. Now stand back and lemme blow this lock off.”

Lance crowded back against Shiro as Hunk demolished the door; after the sparks had cleared, he couldn’t get out of the cell fast enough, stumbling headlong into Hunk, who caught him with strong hands on his shoulders.

“Any word on Keith and Pidge?” Shiro asked. Hunk held up a key and they both turned around so he could free their arms.

“Coran’s on his way to free them now. I parked Yellow in the same bay as Red, so we need to head back there. Unless there’s any reason to stick around?”

“None,” Shiro and Lance said in unison. Lance gave a small laugh and it was nice to see Shiro’s face relax into something like a smile.

“The whole crew was preoccupied so I was able to get down here easily,” Hunk explained as he led the way down the hall and past the fallen guards. “I don’t know what’s going on outside --” another tremor shook the ship “-- but it seems to be big.”

“Allura’s not attacking, is she?” Shiro asked.

“Nope, the Castle is still missing the spare parts. She’s staying hidden on the planet for now.”

Luckily the way back to the bay was mostly unguarded and the few sentries that they encountered were more interested in rushing to their battle stations than engaging the trio. Lance had picked up one of the prison guard’s rifles, and between Hunk’s gigantic cannon and Shiro’s glowing arm, they made an intimidating sight as they hurried along the quaking corridors.

“We’re definitely under attack from something,” Lance muttered as yet another blast shook the ship. “Better get out before this whole place goes boom.”

“I don’t know who it could be. There was a random signal of some kind as Coran and I were landing -- I wonder if that’s somehow related?”

“In this instance, I’d prefer that it remains a mystery,” Shiro said. “How far to the bay?”

“Right here.” They rounded the last corner and the docking area opened up before them. The two lions were still crouched at the far end, nearest the closed doors that led to space and freedom. Between them and the trio, the remnants of Hunk’s battle were still visible, trailing faint smoke.

“Hunk! Lance!” Pidge’s voice barely preceded the blur as she launched herself at her friends. “You’re okay!”

“Good to see you in one piece,” Keith said, looking at Shiro as he and Coran joined the group. Shiro’s reply was drowned out as there was a thunderclap overhead and all the lights went out.

“Screw this. Everyone to the lions!” Lance flicked on a flashlight on the end of his rifle and swept it toward the end of the bay. “Last one there --”

The lights came back on. The paladins, who had just started picking their way along the path of Lance’s flashlight, stopped still. Surrounding them were a dozen masked figures, their bodies completely obscured by robes and bulky armor, their faces covered with gas masks lending them a bug-eyed appearance.

Hunk gulped.

Around the rest of the bay, more cloaked figures were moving with purpose, dismantling the weapons systems and hacking into terminals. The bay doors opened and a Galra shuttle cruised in, disgorging more newcomers who were definitely not Galra. The six formed a loose circle back to back as they surveyed their options. At the moment none of the masks seemed hostile, but it was hard to tell much of anything from their concealed faces.

“We’re enemies of the Galra,” Shiro said, stepping in front of the others. “If you’re the ones attacking this ship, please let us leave in peace.”

A murmur passed through the ranks; the sound was generally positive and the six were tempted to breathe a sigh of relief. Two of the shorter masked figures seemed to be disagreeing, and a quick glance revealed that there was no way to get around the semicircle of masks.

“May I ask who you gentlemen -- gender assumed -- are?” Coran said. He twirled his mustache. “I’d hate for us to be enemies needlessly.”

“We’re rebels,” one of them answered. Hard to tell which one, since none of their mouths were visible. “We picked up the call and came as quickly as we could.”

“The call? You mean the encrypted message?” Hunk asked.

“What encrypted message?” Pidge turned to glare at Keith. “Also, did you not activate the virus? The ship should be dead in space by now!”

“I entered the password you gave me...”

The argument among the masked figures seemed to come to an end and one of them stepped forward. “We’re not your enemies and we’re not here for a fight. But we are going to keep you here for a tick until we can talk with one of our captains.”

“Come _on_.” Lance rolled his eyes. “Can’t you see we’re sick of being here?”

Despite the complaints and scattered veiled threats, the paladins and Coran were herded off to one wall of the bay by the majority of the newcomers. Two of them ran off, presumably to find their leaders, while the rest stood silently and kept the group corralled by sheer menace. Even if they supposedly weren’t enemies, the insectoid masks and emotionless stares were intimidating, not to mention the variety of weapons in their hands.

“So, uh, you sure you can’t let us slip past?” Hunk asked, stepping forward out of line.

“No.” The answer was harsh enough to make him retreat again. “I think there is a very... interested party who will want to talk to you.”

“Were you the ones who sent the message?” a different mask asked.

“No.” Keith crossed his arms. “Now move aside.”

Pidge peered up at the Red Paladin. “I’m pretty sure that activating the virus is the only thing that happened out of the ordinary, so maybe --”

“I did what you told me!” he snapped. “Access the menu, type in the password, all done.”

That caught Shiro’s attention, resonating with something he’d overheard back at the mall, what seemed a lifetime ago. “Your standard password?”

Pidge nodded. “Of course. It’s not like any alien would know the name of our dog so I never saw the need to change it.”

“But it’s the same password that Matt used on all his stuff, right?”

“Yeah.” There was a moment of thoughtful silence. “By the way, where’s the iPod? Lance?”

The Blue Paladin gulped and looked away.

Luckily, before Pidge could pursue the question further, a murmur of voices arose as more of the masked figures trooped into the bay.

“This had better not be an interrogation,” Keith said ominously. “I haven’t had enough sleep for this.”

“For once, I agree.” Lance shook his head. “I’ve had more than enough of cells lately, thank you very much.”

Shiro stepped forward suddenly, the movement violent enough that it caught all of their attention. His face had gone pale and the others followed his fixed gaze with trepidation... to a lean figure dressed in bits of armor and an oversized cloak. The newcomer had messy chestnut hair framing a surprisingly human face.

Wait.

That was an _entirely_ human face.

With a shriek, Pidge launched herself at the person with enough force to knock Shiro and Hunk out of the way and to tackle the newcomer onto his back.

“MATT!”

They went down in a tangle of limbs and tears while the other paladins looked on in amazed joy. It was definitely Matt under the alien clothes, and the way he was holding on to Pidge showed that, whatever else might have changed, he still remembered his sister.

Shiro hesitantly moved toward the siblings, reaching out with his right hand until he stopped some ways away. This was their moment and he didn’t want to intrude -- didn’t know if he was still welcome with Matt at all. Didn’t know if he’d be recognizable after all this time.

Wrestling his way up onto his knees, Matt hooked his chin over Pidge’s shoulder and regarded the paladins with tears unabashedly streaming down his face. He caught sight of Shiro, hovering uncertainly halfway, and struggled to his feet. Pidge stayed stuck against his side and Matt tightened his grip around her shoulders as he reached out with his other arm. Shiro moved forward, gaining momentum like he was falling into a gravity well, and wrapped both of them into a crushing embrace.

“Katie.” Matt’s voice was faint as he hiccuped. “Katie. I never thought... I wanted so _bad_ to see you again.” His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled, but she didn’t care and pressed against him harder. Shiro’s metal arm tightened against her back and it felt like all the air was being squeezed out of her; she couldn’t catch her breath and her mind wasn’t processing properly. All she could feel was her brother’s warm presence, alive and _here_ and _she was never going to let go_.

“Aw man,” Lance said, emotion cracking his voice, as he wrapped his arms around himself and leaned his head into Hunk’s shoulder.

The Yellow Paladin patted his back. “You doing okay?”

“Dude, you don’t know the half of it.”

Hunk looked at him and Lance had to drop his eyes. It was always so easy for Hunk to see right through him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy that Pidge found her brother. It’s just that --” He shrugged helplessly. “What was my real point in coming on this mission?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Hunk said, bumping Lance with his shoulder. “You’ve got just as much right to be here as any of us. Maybe we won’t be able to come across our families out here in space, but we’ve got a new family now. Right?”

Lance sighed and pulled himself upright. “Of course you’re right.”

“I generally am.” Hunk nudged him again. “I don’t know about you but I could definitely go for a giant group hug right now.”

The three didn’t seem to mind the addition of a few new people at all.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until much later, after everyone was back to standing on their own two feet and all the tears were mostly dry, that Keith raised the question of their miraculous rescue.

“How were you able to find us? And with such good timing?”

Matt wiped a hand over his face before draping his arm over Pidge’s shoulders again. “Luck, I guess. The ship I work on just happened to be near this system when we got your distress beacon --”

“Wait.” Hunk held up a hand. “What distress beacon?”

“The... broadband call you sent out half a varga ago? I recognized it as the program that _I_ ’d installed on the prison ship, so I came as fast as I could. I figured maybe Shiro had found a way to activate it.”

Pidge shook her head, brows furrowed, until a thought sparked in her eyes. “I assume you password protected it, right?”

“Of course. Didn’t want the Galra finding it and using it as a lure.”

“Was the password... Gunther?” Keith asked quietly. “I just clicked on the first program I saw with an English name...”

Letting out a wild laugh, Pidge freed herself enough to reach out and drag Keith closer into a hug. “That’s it! You did it!”

“So that virus program you’d installed --?” Shiro asked.

“Never got activated.” Pidge buried her face against Matt again. “Can’t say I mind.”

“I should probably introduce you to my friends,” Matt said, finally removing himself from his place between Shiro and Pidge. “They’re the reason I’m here right now.”

Around them, the masked aliens had gradually dispersed; some were tinkering with the few Galra fighters docked in the bay, while others were distributing rifles and other weapons. A few were gathered around the lions, looking on and whispering in awe.

“They’re all rebels against the Empire. Most are either escaped prisoners or refugees from their different homeworlds. They’ve got a small fleet of captured warships that they’ve been using to cause trouble throughout Galra space.”

“And they rescued you?” Shiro asked quietly. His regret was palpable as he looked down, away from Matt’s eyes.

“Only after I hacked the system. You don’t need to feel bad -- you saved me from the arena, which is more than I could have ever asked of you. All in all, I’ve had it pretty good.” His gaze lingered on Shiro’s scarred face. “I owe you.”

“What about all the explosions earlier?” Hunk said. “I mean, it was nice of you to not, y’know, blow this place up. But why the boarding party?”

“Mainly to add this ship to our fleet. Plus, Dad’s still missing, so...” Matt shrugged. “I have to keep looking. I know I’ll find him, somewhere.”

Pidge wrapped her arms around his chest. “We’ll find him, I promise.”

“Yeah.” He laughed softly and mussed her hair. “Meantime, want to tell me what you’re doing all the way out here in space?”

“Oh boy,” Lance commented. “You’re in for one heck of a long story.”

“Maybe the story can wait until later?” Hunk asked hopefully. “I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted. I say we head back to the Castle for a bite to eat and getting the princess up to date.”

Matt’s eyes went big. “You have a castle? And a princess?” He turned to Pidge and muttered, “Am I in space or high fantasy here?”

“Come on.” Shiro clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll love it.”

Keith clicked on his helmet’s comm, able to link to the Castle now without fear of being traced or intercepted. “Princess Allura? Just wanted to let you know that we’re all right. All of us. And we’re coming home.”


End file.
